Pure Power
My biggest mistake as a young parent was thinking that parenting would be like taking care of my younger siblings. I was 22. We notoriously know nothing, yet believe we know everything as 22 year-olds. Reality set in for me when my firstborn was yelling his head off and couldn’t understand that mama would be right there as soon as I finished taking a shit. I painfully remembered who I looked to for help when my sisters were yelling their heads off. As I sat on the toilet in defeat with my screaming child in my arms, I remembered I was my own hero; but more Great American- than super-. I had all this power, but despite my best efforts, I couldn’t quite weild it. I defaulted to what I knew: my parents’ example.
My parents love for me was immeasurable. This is the thing we say when we require the understanding that everything that comes next is supremely fucked up. My parents love for me was immeasurable, as long as I met the standards they set for me. God’s standards. I remember being a child wishing the devil would free me, because what I knew of God was killing my tiny body and spirit. I was forced out to my parents as bi when I was eight because my mother asked me, and lying about who I was felt beneath me even then. (Side note: I learned at a very young age how complicated your truth is when it doesn’t only out you.) They subsequently acted like it never happened and spent the rest of their respective lives punishing me…
