Sunday, March 27, 2011

The L Word (part two)

Sometimes it takes me a minute to realize that I’m being slighted in some way when it actually happens. I just re-read that sentence and it doesn’t look right but it’s what I think I’m trying to say so I will try to break it down. I am used to folks being direct not this passive aggressive backhanded compliment shit. When I don’t like something I say I don’t like it. And if my opinion is asked I am assuming that you aren’t soliciting a lie. So when you tell me something I’ve done appeals to you or that you liked what I said or how I said it, I tend to take it as honesty because in my line of logic I’m thinking who would volunteer a lie? And why would you voluntarily offer up false praise when you could have just said nothing. Oh well, I keep forgetting I’m a little different and when I remember I shrug it off like an itchy sweater. I mean I am of the mind that if you are over forty and haven’t learned that some people are mean, and mean people suck and if at forty plus you haven’t developed a sense of humor that can filter through bullshit leaving your self esteem in tact? Well, I don’t know what to tell you.

So, someone I dealt with briefly just found out about my attack of lesbianism. He was a part of my life when unhappiness led to acting out. My first marriage one of guilt and denial my open act of I’M NOT GAY resistance. Jumping from my first love, a woman, into the guy I ruined to prove my straightness. I had affairs, and other things and I still wasn’t happy so this encounter and I am left east of knocked up and not sure who belonged to who as I was so entangled. I wanted children so now I had one. I was also always clear that, if need be, I could raise my children myself. So the donor, mind you no test has been taken to make sure, twenty-two years later has issues. Mind you my daughter is clear about her parents her mother and the second husband her father who raised her. So, I’ll amend the alleged donor calls her, my daughter, when he finds out that I am one of them.

He has a fit. Makes comments like she should have been raised by him cause he ain’t no punk.? Still not sure what that means but you who know me know my fist instinct was to laugh. Like me being me is a detriment to raising children. Crazy! I had pretty much let that go until I overheard someone saying, “She’s a homosexual you know.” The way it was said made it sound so sketch. And I know they maybe weren’t talking about me (who am I kidding there was pointing for fucks sake). It made me think of the donor and the church lady and the preacher and all the other encounters with folks that want to judge me by my sexuality.

I find it sad and funny that those who bark so loud about my unfitness as a parent have children so fucked up therapy would be a band-aid. My kids are not perfect. And even if they make the same mistakes I did or create brand new ones as long as they learn from them all will be good. As of now, no one has gone to jail, nobody’s knocked up and they love learning!

I am not perfect and my kids know the imperfections well, I tend to wear them on my tongue, so I have no fear of them waking up one day feeling like their mother was a liar.

And I have lied about many things, my favorite was pretending to be deaf and listening to this guy on the bus telling me all the nasty things he wanted to do to me. It was tough not showing the disgust on my face, and later there was a knee to the groin and running. Thank the Goddess for track. You live, you learn. I don’t lie about the things that are important especially when it comes to my kids. And I would appreciate it if when you judge me for being gay, we just stick to the gay. When you judge my parenting, just judge my parenting. And should you be so inclined to mix the two, have the goddamn decency to not cry or bitch when you recognize yourself in a poem or in a blatant statement like, oh I don’t know this one. I didn’t include your names cause this is your freebie. Your only freebie;-)

Have a lovely!

*written without editing forgive the rambling, or don't...

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