I've only been on the planet for 4 decades and some odd years now. I find it fascinating that many people from every walk of life has various perception about life on earth.
I have come to adapt other philosophical views about the world in regards to my life. The life according to me. Since I was young enough to grasp the concept of life, I have come to accept the notion that there are things bigger than me, which I have no control over. If I could, I wouldn't be here typing all of this.
As any sensible person would care to notice why I even bother writing this down, it's simple: for the younger generations to come. My generation has been so consumed with their own gains and triumphs, they had forgotten those who needed the same knowledge to get there: their very own children. They have left their children to their own devices - to video games, cable television and lifestyle magazines. The frustrating thing about it is, they blame it on the media, the government and the communities.
The balance of life begins when darkness greets the light, and peace beholds love and hatred. What truly constitutes a good person? How does one determine such a character? Almost every superhero I read about in Marvel (R) and DC (R) has character flaws. No, I will not curtail every single flaw of each one of them. Just name me one superhero, who has never lifted a single violent, selfish, sadistic, cruel, abusive, prejudice and/or inconsiderate act against another human being?
The point of the matter is, no body is perfect. Yet, why are we striving for it? Is it because we have come to believe that there are missing parts of us? What are we actually missing? Who should we be asking? How do we find the thing we are missing? What is missing in our life? So many unanswered questions! Who's going to know?
I told myself, "Get off your butt and start searching for the answer." This is not to sound auspicious in a grimly sort of way. It's amazing how humans invent something so innovative - not to feel accomplished or anything spectacular thus far, but to make life simpler, easier and effortless. It's an amazing enigma. Humans spend so much time, effort and resources just so they can do so much less. It's a wonder why the rest of the world is so fat and the other side is suffering from poverty and starvation. The children suffer the most. By the time they get older, the whole cycle starts again.
There are plenty of resources to go around. Yet here we are, teaching our children to horde every last bit of resources so that they can have a future of their own. The instant gratification of Amazon delivering your item at your doorstep after a click of your mouse button, has rendered many impatient, sordid and contemptuous ingrates. Sharing is one thing - if and when another person contributes to the honey pot as well, is another gesture entirely. I will point this out again: how does one determine a person is good?
I do not enjoy swaying to my moods and emotions, but it is who I am. I am an emotional person by nature. I'm older and wiser enough to know the difference between on who's playing and toying with me and who's being sincere in their own right.
There are many great philanthropic causes for the betterment of mankind. I can name several organizations, which can live up to their morals and values. I support them wholeheartedly. However, my suspicions rise when I get automated printed letters every single week about how I should continue to do so as a member of their prestigious club. I start to wonder where my money actually went to. Were the children fed? Did the children get better from their illnesses? Are the children's lives better than they were before? Did you give the widow the support they need? Did the homeless get the help they wanted? How about the destitute, were their necessities met? I should not have to be addressed with legal formality that my donations will be returned to me during my tax refund. I do not need to know that. All it does is, prompt me to be unwilling to donate to the cause. When I donate, I gave it fully, willingly and freely with all the kindness and sincerity of my heart. It is a gift from me to you. I do not even have to mention this or to prove to anyone otherwise.
My ironic life as I know it, was painted so gruesomely. So much so, that I feared it; hated it even. Look, I was only 7 years old. In light of all the fuss of experiencing a cruel world, I saw none of what my mother forewarned. Gee, thanks mom for all the unnecessary trauma you inflicted upon me. I suffered so much from my childhood, but accomplished so much more as an adult.
As for my child, I painted the real world for them. They saw the world as it is. It was a big world full of amazing and mysterious things. They saw so much beauty despite the misshapen aspects of war, famine, plagues, natural disasters and desolation. I warned them to be cautious and to be mindful of how they may affect the world. They are a simpleton at heart. Their wits are as gritty as a pirate on a barrel of loot. Yet, here they stand beside me, still yearning and longing for something more.
What is it that they yearn for? They have yet to answer that question. Whatever I treasure in my life, is nothing but a dull clay on a window sill to their eyes. I have met several people, who have walked through their life with indolence and indifference. Much like this person, I met at one point in my life. I do not know what has become of them. I do hope my child doesn't end up like them either.
Please know and understand that I do love my mother dearly. I long for her to accept me for who I am. She lived a vicarious life of a pious woman. In reality as industrious as she was for a woman of her times, she always struggled financially. She seems to always strive for perfection, even though she makes a lot of mistakes. You would think I would learn a lot of admirable traits from her. I only learned how to disparage others, who do not see things the way I do.
I am fortunate that I was surrounded by influential friends, who saw through my pain. They taught me how to be more empathetic towards other's needs. There were teachers at school who told my mother that I could do better in completing homework. I learned to take my own time in completing my task. Depending on how effective and efficient as one would call it, I was always expected that it was done right. Bravo for me, right? Not for my mother. It has to always be perfect the first time. If that were the case, how come it took Edison many trying times before he could get the tungsten in the bulb to finally light up? Her answer was, "At least he was trying; you aren't." How can one try if they have not failed the first time?
I was struggling with a math problem. She would hit me with the edge of her ruler. Regardless of where it landed, the strike was always harder than the last one. When she saw how hopeless I was, she struck me on my skull. She gasp at the top of her lungs, "You see what you did?!" Her ruler was bent.
"This proves how stubborn and hard headed you are!"
She blamed me for ruining her favorite ruler. She swore that she would always show it to me whenever I was disobedient to her commands. Even though I no longer am under her custody, she still has the bent metal ruler in her possession.
Whether or not that blunt forced trauma to my head caused any complications, I do know that I was no longer able to hear on my left side. As my audiologist observed, "Your left cochlea was already damaged prior to the incident that happened at college." She asked me if I had been listening to loud music or had any blunt force trauma or been in an accident that may have happened prior to the college incident. She explained that the damage was much older than 20 years of wear and tear. I told my audiologist that they could be so many possibilities. I told her that I was susceptible to ear infections. There was a Technical Trainer, who wanted to file insubordination when I gave her a doctor's note that I need to be medicated to clear off my ear infection. I sat through the pain and took the medicine when I retired to bed. The audiologist was sympathetic and apologized that I was treated in that manner. She said that the instructor should have allowed me to complete my dosage as instructed by the doctor.
It's too late now. I really cannot hear on my left. If you speak to me from my left side, don't expect a response.
Another occasion of how my mother treated me was when she wanted me to do her homework. Firstly, I would like to point out that my mother told me to never lie to her, but a few moments later, she told her Science professor that she did her homework. She even praised herself for doing her assignment on her own. The fact was, she had given me her assignment to work on. She had the audacity to be upset at me for writing like a high school student, which in fact I was at that time. So there's the irony.
My father was a gifted and talented man. He sought after his dream and lived it. He spent his life living without a care in the world. He was happy being alone by himself in his artwork. So much so, he'd forgotten quality time with the family. His role as a father did not come into fruition until I was already on my way to college. The only life lesson he gave me was, "Experience is where you become wiser." If that were so, he'd been a more responsible father to the family. My mother had to work 3 to 7 jobs to support all 8 of us; 2 were live-in housekeepers.
Carla Fine states in her book, "Strong, Smart & Bold" that a girl needs many adult figures in her life on whom she can rely for encouragement and guidance, as well as for listening, loving and bearing witness to her personal growth and achievement. Could I have veered myself in the wrong direction as a mother?
I did the best I could to tell the truth and the best answer whenever my child had doubts. They have a rather complex perception about the real world. So much so, they'd rather be in their own world. They believe the world should revolve around their expectations of reality. How they came to that conclusion, was beyond me. I did not raise them to think that way.
They were raised to be independent, autonomous, resourceful and self-sufficient. Sadly, peer pressure took over their upbringing and have become indifferent and indolent towards the world around them.
On the bright side of things, they definitely are a much well-rounded person than I am. When I was younger, I was always told to keep to myself. My rambunctious tendency has a way to annoy even the most civil of adults. For the entirety of my adolescent years, I did not muster a voice or move an inch unless I was spoken to or was invited to congregate with others.
Have I been more of a friend than a parent to her? Mind you, I do not cater to the kind of behavior towards my child the same way my mother had done to me. I always tried my best to reason with them whenever we had conflicting points of view.
It seems no one has yet contested to my parenting methods aside from my own mother. Girls, Inc. have pointed out that gender-based discrimination has played a number of roles in society. Girls to be one way, and boys as another way.
It's obvious my child is facing the same dilemma I did when I was growing up. Try as I may to understand their life experience, I am unable to relate since they identify as Trans Man; whereas I am considered a bisexual cis woman. The experience of the prejudice received is prevalent.
I was not entirely a tom-boy. I do enjoy wearing dresses, as long as the hem of the tresses cover every inch of my legs. I don't mind wearing skirts draped below my knee, as long as I have shorts hugging underneath them.
Unfortunately, the dresses I enjoy are no longer in style, unless you're a Steampunk Goth or from the Victorian era. The dresses and fashion sense has gotten so distasteful, I find myself in the men's aisle more often than the women's aisle. I'm apparently a size "Chico" at the WalMart Men's Department.
The thing that aggravates me the most is, that I have to be aware of which women's department I'm at. My child's fashion sense has grown simplistic with minimal bright colors, but they do enjoy colorful accessories more than I do. Most of my wardrobe has been defined to shades of blue, black and gray including, Summer and Fall themes.
I have already told my child that there was nothing wrong with being themselves. Being able to express oneself is a very normal human thing to do. In addition, there was nothing insignificant about being a wholesome person.
All the nonsensical stories they heard from other girls are highly opinionated in their own right. Peer pressure is nothing more than a vicious weed. No matter how much you weed it out, it still springs back gnawing at you like a mosquito.
The Grunge fashion style in the 90s was a hit when I was still single. I was hoping to be left alone donning those baggy jeans and unkempt flannel shirts. Unfortunately, I still attracted a lot of guys, who gagged at me without a clue.
When I started dressing up like a preppy, I attracted the most unfortunate bunch of shallow men. I'm seriously not kidding. It didn't matter how well or badly I dressed. Apparently, a few guys admitted that I still looked good in baggy clothes. That meant a lot since my mother has drilled it in my head, that I was not a very attractive woman. She coerced me to stuff my bras with socks. I defiantly refused. I didn't want my body to smell like feet; clean sock or not. She made me wear braces. She claimed I had ugly protruding teeth. Now, I suffer a partial lisp and an uneven jaw. My profile has an overbite whenever I smile.
I did not lay out any specific expectation for my child other than to be true to themselves; make sure they take good care of themselves, and to always be safe. It's simple, really. I did tell them to choose their friends wisely. Yet again, we come to this point: how does one determine that a person is good?
Here's one thing I know for sure. As a human, whatever preconceived notion we may have based on how we were raised, how we perceive our moral values, and how we treat others on the basis of what is right and fair, wherefore no other person is deprived of their own autonomy as an individual; granted they exercise the same virtues, we can all live in peace and harmony amongst ourselves.
So, in all sense and sensibility, humans are not perfect. It is not a flaw. Whenever we indulge on things that hurt others and ourselves, it is then we have allowed society (in the long run) from all walks of life to discriminate, hate, reject, violate, abuse, control and eradicate anyone who do not look, talk and think like us.
Published 3/23/12
Edited 09/1/22
