I almost wrote this as soon as I had returned from the Green County back to Castle Moon. Then I didn’t, suffering that laissez-faire laziness that is me with a thousand and one things to do and no schedule. The Princess and Britney were up at the weekend using my place as a crash-pad and we ended up having a conversation that reprompted this blog-post.
So, I’ve posted up here before about not having that great a communicative relationship with my parents. They don’t know I’m poly, they don’t know I’m bisexual.
A brief digression about why that mattered/what that means to me
I have no desire to tell my parents about my sex life, they don’t know I like getting tied up or a whole variety of my sexual tastes and after a lot of conversations I notice that some people put my liking girls and having multiple partners in the same box as this. Well, I don’t. The fact I like getting tied up and spanked is a private sexual kink (which I enjoy spreading across the internet) but the fact that some of my lovers have been girls and someday I may have a girlfriend isn’t a private thing. It’s something that I’d like to tell my friends about and something that I cannot tell my parents about.
I would have liked a few years ago, to be able to introduce hypothetical girlfriend to my parents as my girlfriend. Gentleman Jez, back when he was my Gentleman Friend, was in no way fond of the idea of being introduced to my parents as a friend when he was in fact my boyfriend, at the time I agreed with him and got very frustrated as I tried to bring up the subject over and over with my parents who consistently did not want to know.
Just so some of you are getting this. Do you want to get married? I mean, the ceremony bit, not the registry office bit. Your parents and family are there, so are your partners, all your friends are there. Now, putting aside my issues with marriage for a moment, I can’t do that. Obviously, legally I can’t get hitched in this country to more than one person, but I’m talking about a ceremony that would be meaningful to me. I can’t have the nice multi-partner marriage with my family there as well as the other families there, sure my sister will come but my family don’t want to know about my multiple partners and inviting them to something like that would just upset them. Gods forbid there was a girl involved.
Ok, hopefully those of you who may have been putting my multiple-partners and girl-love in the kink box might have a better idea of what it means to me now.
Digression Ends
A couple of years ago I chilled out about trying to tell them who I am. I took people home to meet my parents, people who were important to me, my parents have met Weasel, they know he’s a friend, they don’t know he’s my other boyfriend. They don’t want to know that last bit. They’ve met most people who are important to me, and my sister’s met everyone and knows (probably) far more than she ever wanted to.
This summer I went home for three days, I drove them around the place, we looked at sculptures and I painted green men for my mother. My Dad and I had fun with Cedric. My mother hates garden gnomes and my aunt bought her a disney one which she especially despises one year – she can’t get rid of it but her preferred place for Cedric (the gnome) is hidden behind plant pots on the patio. She also has a gravel garden full of alpines and small statues of buddhas, wizards, various animals etc. So me and Dad, when she wasn’t looking took great pleasure in having Cedric positioned so that he was having a chat with the wizard, consulting one the buddhas under the trees and all manner of things.
Dad was recovering from his heart operation so we had time for me to sit in the sun painting things (and not sneezing – finally I’ve found the antihistamines that can cope with the Green County) and for him to sit in the sun chatting and sipping pastis. We talked about the weather, what I was painting and how his operation went.
When I lived at home smalltalk was all I could do with my parents and I hated it because that was the bulk of my conversation. Now it’s not so bad, I don’t live with them, I can talk about things that matter and things that are personal with other people.
I worried as I drove home that I really was my parents daughter because I decided I’d take what I could get and live with it and I just didn’t care that they’re never going to know what my life is like. That’s been coming since I moved out at eighteen, they were completely convinced that I spent all day and every night in my room studying at uni…they never wanted to know what I was actually doing. However, I don’t actually think I need to worry.
I’m not going to get married, so I don’t need to worry that I need to give them advance warning of a potential daughter-in-law or multiple daughters/sons-in-law.
I’m not going to have children, so I don’t need to worry that I need to tell them about my relationships before multiple people are bringing up their grandchildren.
I’m thirty next year, my life seems pretty much set. My parents don’t want to know about some aspects of my life but they seem perfectly amenable to making small-talk and seeing the palatable bits of me and I can always come home to deal with the less normal bits. I think I’m always going to be envious of people like Weasel who have a really close relationship with their parents and who get to talk about everything but as long as I keep things light I can have a perfectly cordial time with mine and I think that’s a step up.
I’d reached this conclusion when The Princess sat me down and started telling me she understood how hard is was for me. I kind of wanted to tell her that she was about four years too late, that I really just didn’t care anymore. I think she got that I wasn’t going to start trying to tell my parents anything just because I had a good three days with them. She had to cope with my continual attempts to tell them I was bi in my late teens so I can understand where she was coming from but even she’s out of step with what I’m thinking these days.
I guess I am my parents daughter going for the quiet life and the easy option at expense of the truth, but when have I ever been totally honest with my parents?