Character Defect #1: FEAR
After a whole lot of procrastinating (Character Defect #17) I have finally approached the point of addressing my many character defects. Number one on the list is my old friend Fear. Since I have huge issues talking about fear out loud and listing all the things I am afraid of, my mission is now to write about fear and my fears. Certainly no easy task, but also certainly easier than talking about them out loud.
It's hard to list the first of the worst, but if I had to decide between the top three or four, I think my top fear is a fear of rejection. It's almost paradoxical that this is my top fear, because I also have a huge fear of people and social situations, and because I have become so accustomed to being alone.
Like a lot of other things, I think this traces back to my childhood.
For the majority of their marriage, my father ran around on my mother. He had one specific very long relationship with a woman who had two children a few years older than me. From the time I was five years old, I know about them. He spent nights, weekends and at least part of every holiday at their house. There was never a school event of mine, other than my high school graduation, he ever attended. And the few times he was home, he was drunk and abusive. One of my very earliest memories is kneeling on my bed, looking out the front window toward the street corner, waiting for him to come home, and wondering why he would rather spend time with Garrett and Martha instead of me. What had I done wrong? Why wasn't I good enough?
My mother was too wrapped up in work to spend much time with me. She'd come home and make dinner for me, then go lay down on the sofa and fall asleep. I'd eat dinner alone, then watch TV. I knew my bedtime and would wake her up to kiss her goodnight when I went to bed. Eventually, as I got older, I would wake her up to tell her she needed to go to bed. Even though I knew she loved me, she was never particularly affectionate. She wasn't into hugs or outward displays of emotion. When I told her I loved her, she would tell me "Talk is cheap. Don't tell me. Show me.". As an adult I wouldn't know what to do with that now. Imagine being 8 years old and trying to figure that out.
In my first few years of school, we lived on the wrong side of Radecke Avenue, so other kids at Hazelwood Elementary didn't want anything to do with me. Sitting here writing this, I suddenly remember the Valentine boxes we used to have on Valentine's Day for kids to drop cards in for other kids. My biggest year was two cards.
When I was 11, we moved across the state to a small town in the mountains. There, I was the fat outsider who nobody knew, who didn't go hunting or fishing or camping. Kids there kept their distance. As a teenager, I didn't have many friends because we didn't have anything in common, and I was too afraid to have anybody come over, for fear they would see my father. And my mother didn't like anybody I tried to be friends with anyway. So it all evened out.
Because I took a few years off, by the time I was in college for real, I was older than everyone else. Friends were hard to come by. And being a gay man in Miami who wasn't a Coconut Grove or South Beach model was nearly a crime. Men were not flocking to my side. I remember one night after work cruising Biscayne Boulevard until almost 3AM. FInally I made eye contact with a guy in another car enough times that he followed me home. I got out of my car, walked over to his car to take him inside, and instead, he drove off.
Good times.
So, my number one fear is rejection. All the others have a whole lot to live up to.
When I started writing this entry, it was supposed to be all encompassing about all my fears. After 721 words (thank you Microsoft Office word count), I've only managed to get through Fear #1. I guess there are more to come.
Is this fun or what?
It's hard to list the first of the worst, but if I had to decide between the top three or four, I think my top fear is a fear of rejection. It's almost paradoxical that this is my top fear, because I also have a huge fear of people and social situations, and because I have become so accustomed to being alone.
Like a lot of other things, I think this traces back to my childhood.
For the majority of their marriage, my father ran around on my mother. He had one specific very long relationship with a woman who had two children a few years older than me. From the time I was five years old, I know about them. He spent nights, weekends and at least part of every holiday at their house. There was never a school event of mine, other than my high school graduation, he ever attended. And the few times he was home, he was drunk and abusive. One of my very earliest memories is kneeling on my bed, looking out the front window toward the street corner, waiting for him to come home, and wondering why he would rather spend time with Garrett and Martha instead of me. What had I done wrong? Why wasn't I good enough?
My mother was too wrapped up in work to spend much time with me. She'd come home and make dinner for me, then go lay down on the sofa and fall asleep. I'd eat dinner alone, then watch TV. I knew my bedtime and would wake her up to kiss her goodnight when I went to bed. Eventually, as I got older, I would wake her up to tell her she needed to go to bed. Even though I knew she loved me, she was never particularly affectionate. She wasn't into hugs or outward displays of emotion. When I told her I loved her, she would tell me "Talk is cheap. Don't tell me. Show me.". As an adult I wouldn't know what to do with that now. Imagine being 8 years old and trying to figure that out.
In my first few years of school, we lived on the wrong side of Radecke Avenue, so other kids at Hazelwood Elementary didn't want anything to do with me. Sitting here writing this, I suddenly remember the Valentine boxes we used to have on Valentine's Day for kids to drop cards in for other kids. My biggest year was two cards.
When I was 11, we moved across the state to a small town in the mountains. There, I was the fat outsider who nobody knew, who didn't go hunting or fishing or camping. Kids there kept their distance. As a teenager, I didn't have many friends because we didn't have anything in common, and I was too afraid to have anybody come over, for fear they would see my father. And my mother didn't like anybody I tried to be friends with anyway. So it all evened out.
Because I took a few years off, by the time I was in college for real, I was older than everyone else. Friends were hard to come by. And being a gay man in Miami who wasn't a Coconut Grove or South Beach model was nearly a crime. Men were not flocking to my side. I remember one night after work cruising Biscayne Boulevard until almost 3AM. FInally I made eye contact with a guy in another car enough times that he followed me home. I got out of my car, walked over to his car to take him inside, and instead, he drove off.
Good times.
So, my number one fear is rejection. All the others have a whole lot to live up to.
When I started writing this entry, it was supposed to be all encompassing about all my fears. After 721 words (thank you Microsoft Office word count), I've only managed to get through Fear #1. I guess there are more to come.
Is this fun or what?
posted by Bill at
10:19 AM
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