Sunday, November 17, 2019
Thanks for the help... not!
I was thinking about the odd relationship I had with my parents, especially when young. This was sparked by a friend who remarked how our parents taught us that emotions were bad, they were weak and something to conceal behind closed doors. Some of my friends grew up without a father and some ask what my relationship was like with my Dad, they wanted to know, did he talk with me about becoming a man etc?
My Dad was a good man in his belief of duty to provide and take care of his family. He had a lot of input regarding things like honesty, integrity and definitely manners. He didn't have sit down discussions, it was pretty much, "don't ever let me catch you doing...." fill in the blank. He also warned me that if I ever embarrassed him by doing something that landed me in jail, don't bother calling because I could rot there for all he cared. I knew he meant it, so I behaved. There were other cues of his that I followed because I wanted to be a good person like him. He was big on responsibility, taking responsibility, acting responsibly, taking things seriously.
The one thing though that he had zero and I mean absolutely zero input on, was me growing into a man, anything to do with sex, sexuality or male anatomy. Even just me the boy, growing into me the man, not one single word. That's strange to me, I don't know if he was too embarrassed to say anything, or just really hated the topic. I would have appreciated a heads up regarding puberty, I had no idea what the heck was going on in the beginning. There were times I was actually scared.
The thing that is so strange about it, is you must remember I grew up on a farm. Often at 9, 10 or 11 years old, we would have the following conversation, "young-lad come here, I have to go to that meeting tonight, number 12 is tied in her stall, Mike the AI (AI= artificial insemination) technician is coming because she's in heat. Tell him she had slime running out of her vagina this morning, so she's ready to breed. Make sure he uses semen from AU78, that's a good bull". I might then ask does he have a second choice incase they don't have semen from AU78. This was a very common conversation between us, a little later he would even sometimes let me pick the bulls because I could understand the heritability numbers better.
Even with all that between us, I could never ask him a question about the changes happening to me or information I needed about growing up. At an early age I took note of his ears turning beat red and him changing the subject immediately. Either that or he would give me this look of complete disgust and make that "tsk" sound, as if I had just asked him to watch me pick my nose. I immediately knew that I could never go to him about anything, not only that... but I knew he wouldn't want me coming to him.
Even stranger, if I had to talk about something, I went to mom, at times it could get weird, if I had a man part problem, I was talking to mom, sometimes she spoke to Dad seeking information, yet instead of Dad saying, "ok I got this", he would relay information through mom back to me. By the time I was about to turn thirteen, I never spoke to either of them about sex, nudity or sexuality ever again.
The sad thing for them is that I learned about sex, erections, puberty and all that jazz from a guy who was total white trash, the kind of guy that they wouldn't want giving me information but young minds want to know and his guy loved telling all he knew. Also it was his cheap version of sex and sexuality, no mention of love, caring or anything positive about it. Speaking to friends I seem to be in the norm, unfortunately I think that the father and son talks in our day, were only something that happened in movies.