I would have much rather had it be awkward and uncomfortable between the two of them to the point of him putting his foot down and realizing that he couldn’t allow her to babysit for my sister and me. It might have been very difficult, but my sister and I would have turned out healthier.
It’s weird to think back to that, because I’m going through a similar stretch with my dad right now. Things are uncomfortable. They’ve always been that way, but especially now. I pretty much haven’t spoken to him in the last year. I won’t get into the specifics of it, but I’m happy to be in a spot where I can take on the uncomfortable part of the father son relationship, because I want healthier family traditions for my kids.
My family growing up was so dysfunctional, but it had this Christian stamp on it so it was good. If you looked from the outside in or even asked us, we’d say we were fine, but the way both of my parents grew up deeply affected who they became as adults and how they parented us. Love was verbal and intellectual, but not heartfelt. And that’s the brand of Christianity that was lived out too.
I couldn’t feel my parents love or my God’s love. I heard they loved me, but I didn’t believe it. I felt unsafe and uncomfortable. As a kid I remember getting out of bed one night to make sure the door was locked. My dad told me to not be such a worry wart. I was just a little kid who felt unsafe and my dad made me feel shitty instead of comforting me.
And that’s kind of a good snapshot of what Christianity became to me. I felt guilty. I could never do enough good. It was always up to me. There wasn’t this overpowering Grace that I found just recently. Everything was up to me. If I did good, things were fine. But, if I fucked up, I felt like hell.
I was thinking this morning about the Christian concept of being Born Again. The problem with the way I was “born again” was that I stayed in a state of arrested development. I was stuck in the Christianity where everything is simple and black and white and worst of all so damn narrow minded. I just kept getting fed baby food. Do good. Study the Bible. Pray. But, what about the horrible shit that was really going on? I couldn't bring it up, because I was taught to avoid emotions. I was stuck in the Born Again phase and was never allowed to grow up.
It was such a frustrating place to be stuck. The truth was supposed to set me free, but man I just felt shitty when I told the truth about my sins. Like, I wasn’t living up to the expectation of perfection. I could tell the truth about my fuck ups and be made to feel even worse. Or lie about it and not only feel terrible about my sins, but also that I was a fucking liar.
The thing is, the real shit…the family shit…the stuff that created who I became…that was the hardest stuff to talk about. I tried to avoid it at all costs. I tried to run from it. And I just realized that was the family tradition. Exactly like the quote from my dad in yesterday’s post, “I spent my whole life trying to get away from that woman (his mom).”
Trying to run away from an abusive parent is a fine strategy if you’re a kid. But, as an adult you have to stand up for yourself, turn the fuck around and realize she’s not chasing you anymore. And I think that’s where everything changed for me.
When I could stand up for myself, find my own voice, identify serious flaws in how I was raised and begin the healing process. My therapist helped me do all that. No longer was I this depressed, muted victim. I could cry out and call bullshit where I needed to.
I could tell the truth. I could talk about the fucked up stuff that happened to me as a kid. The affect that Grace had on me was profound. I was born again. I could look at everything completely differently. I didn’t have to accept my parent’s version of Christianity. I could make my faith my own.
And my therapist helped me find my own way. My religion told me to stay married. My therapist clearly saw why the marriage couldn’t work. My religion cast stones at me when I made friends with a stripper. My therapist told me she thought the stripper was an angel. She doesn’t think in black and white. She makes me feel safe. I don’t have to hold back anything. And even still she makes me feel like she thinks I’m an absolutely incredible person.
Ahhh…that feeling. Everytime I walk out of her office I get it. The world is brand new. It’s exciting and fresh and I know I can take on the world. I used to let the world kick my ass. I got run over by my grandma and my dad and my wife, but man I stopped running from the bullshit versions of love they gave me. I get to deal with it and face it and write until it all comes out. The truth has set me free. I’ve never been less Christian, but I’ve never felt more like who I was created to be.
And I wasn’t created to live out this surface version of Christianity that never addresses the real truth. My past is fucked up. My family history is pretty sick. But, god damnit my future is in my hands. Grace got a hold of me just in time. I was in a really dark place. And I had to go through that in order to appreciate the life I have now.
I love it that my kids aren’t running from me…that they feel safe with me and feel my love. They know I’m imperfect, but that I go to a doctor that helps me talk through the hard parts of life. They know they can talk to me about anything. I just want them to know they’re free to tell the truth. They don’t have to live in the shadows or pretend our family is perfect. They just have to be themselves. And you know what? They are both fucking fantastic.
It took me almost 40 years to feel like I'm fantastic too. That kind of sucks. But, I'm glad to be able to talk about it now. Fortune and fame and all that...who cares? I'm just battling to stay on top of life and I wouldn't trade the feeling I walk around with now for anything.
Yesterday I blogged about the Jerry Sandusky case. It must have been fucking hard for that first guy to stand up and say "Jerry Sandusky raped me." But then look what happened because he was brave enough to step forward. Nine other heartbroken little kids who are now adults raised their hands and said, "Me too."
I hope what I write is encouraging to people and makes them feel comfortable voicing and expressing the fucked up shit that they went through as kids. We are not alone in this. And it's so much easier to walk through your shit when you have other people who you know will get you when you talk about your darkest shit. Truth equals freedom. We don't need to live as scared little kids anymore. We can face down our past and experience life like we never dreamed possible. Or we can settle and go through the motions and avoid emotions. Tough choice, right?
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