TreeHouseView

The 70s were bohemian and wild, the 80s were upwardly mobile and stimulant-fueled and these were the years that the crystallized intelligence I would carry through the rest of my life was forming fossils in my now black-hole burdened brain. The seemingly impenetrable concept of gender was also developed for mre during these decades.

That concept surrounding gender was absolutely supported by my church-focused mother and her inability to be open to any other dogma, which was unendingly frustrating, as I did see times when she was “open” to things outside her norm, like the time I came home with a Ouija board and fully expected to be sold to the Indians if I was caught with the unholy object in my possession. And yes, my mother actually would dangle the consequence of being sold to Indians (that language was still acceptable in the 70s) when I was a child. I thought that actually sounded like a grand time, as she also boasted of having Native American heritage somewhere in her bloodline, so why wouldn’t I want to go live with my wild and free (insert laughter here) relatives?

We have no such heritage and I quickly learned that my mother was not one to discuss things outside the norm of much of anything with. Had I been anything but a girl who was boy-crazy, I might have lived a very different and much more miserable life. My penchant for being extremely private (I’m sure she would have said secretive-for shame!) about most things probably saved me from many a headache and heartache where my mother was concerned.

My father was bigoted as a result of his upbringing and the usual excuse of “it was the times”, but he was also easily emotionally swayed with not much effort at all. He was what I call a Burnt Marshmallow–crusty and unappetizing (to most) on the ouside, but soft and ooey-gooey on the inside, and you just had to know how to get to to the good parts. He was the parent who was merely the provider, until my mom was gone and he had to learn how to let us in.

I knew early on that boy and girls could like genders other than the opposite ones society and mainstream religion seemed to dictate were “normal” to be attracted to, and that not everyone was born in the bodies that they felt were their own. I heard the opinions of my relatives that mostly leaned toward “why would they do that!?” ranging from horror to disgust, and I never understood the reactions. I have always been more of the mind that love is love and it’s really as simple as that.

Nothing is every really very simple, though, is it? I watched as one of my stepsons navigated his way through how to come into his own sexuality and how to let the extended family know that he was gay. He didn’t “come out” but merely said, “hey, I have a boyfriend” when he was ready to let people in on what he might have thought was a secret, and everyone who meant anything said, “that’s wonderful”, and I smiled and teared up with pride–both for him and for my family who loved and supported him when he needed it the most.

I hope there comes a day when nobody feels a need to make any grand announcements about who and how they love. There shouldn’t be a need, as love is love, but we as a society just aren’t there yet, and maybe never will be and it’s never just so simple. This gaping hole in how people who don’t live their lives according to what others think is “normal” has taken at least one friend from my life far too early and tragically and the possibility that it could happen again to one of my kids, or to one of my closest friends whom I grew up with like a sister leaves me in a helpless heap. The lives that love can decimate are lined up like soldiers–just waiting to be knocked down. The butterfly/ripple effect is just as deadly in collateral damage and so often not considered because the focus is on just the one person.

As a child of the 70s and 80s who grew up in a household with no sex education and worse than that, no communication, the solid ‘boys like girls and girls like boys’ principle was never up for debate. In my mind, however, I knew that there was more to the whole thing, and the path we are all on is certainly not a straight one.