Cultivating TransparencyPosted: May 12, 2007
On my endless thirst for knowledge, in most of the self-help books I have read, one of the personality that one should cultivate to have more friends or just to plain deepen your relationship with your love ones, is to Cultivate Transparency. And the sound of it frightens the hell of out me. But here it goes….
I had a twisted way of upbringing but knowing there are billions of people on earth, chances I may be the only one with such fate. I could say that I have a normal life when I was a kid. I could say I enjoyed my childhood innocence. I just play, eat, study, watch tv, play nintendo all day long without thinking of domestic problems.
First corruption, as far as I could remember, is curiosity of the unlabeled betamax tape. I was shocked to learn that the tape that my lesbian neighbor (his name is Irene, Rene for short) played is actually a japanese porn video. I thought we are going to see Dumbo. Life has never been the same. I was ten then.
I shielded myself from it. I denied myself I have watched such films. Pretending is not hard. All I have to do is keep my mouth shut and look away. This definitely works from the non-stop teasing from family and believing unconciously what they tell you is true. What they were? Hmmm… I believe one is “You look like Tweety bird on sideways. Your cheeks is so big that the nose looks like a beak” as if I could change my face. Its ok if they’re laughing with me and NOT at me. The line is a classic one. I can never forget. Another one is “Why can’t you be like her? She’s so graceful when she dance.” As if I could force myself to be graceful. I have two left feet!
Then mom died. Father turned hard-core alcoholic. Depleting finances on the process. In denial that he used them all up. Angry at my mom for leaving him. Meaning he have to work hard from then on to live. No more living like a king. My sister and I denied it for a while. We’re tried to pretend that dad is a strong father. That he really cares for us like he used to say that “I only live because of you my daughters” or something like that. But actions speak louder than words. He only love himself. If you asked him, “What would you tell mom if you saw her again?” He would say, “Why the hell did you left me?” not caring on what my mom would tell him. A pity actually. I understand him yet I hate him.
My sister and I finished college. Thanks to state universities. College was a breeze. I was like a robot going to school as much as I can to stay away from the wretched home which smells of liquor. I live on one egg sandwhich for lunch. I just fill my hunger when I return home. I lost weight then because of the habit (hooraay!) but I have ulcer and hyperacidity. The weight returned when I started to join the office people.
My emotional growth was a very slow one. I had this anger for a very long, long time. I remember having short journals that I really wanted to kill myself because I hate my life. I’ve got no direction. My fairy tale life was cut short. I’m supposed to have my 18th birthday on a hotel or I was thinking of asking for a second hand yellow beetle bug in leiu of it. I’m supposed to have a mom that I could brag with my friends that we went to this and bought that etc. My mom is so cool etc. etc. What I have is a dad that spent all my mom’s money, sold her jewels and bring home all-sorts of problem. He’s not ashamed of it, mind you.
But God is good or the universe is good or which ever high forces out there is good. He gave me the person that helped me heal the pain, the sorrow and made life worth living again. He taught me to “feel” again when I was so numb of everything. My very own D. D for Daddy, for Darling, for Dashing Debonair, my Dennis.
Cultivate transparency. Am I doing it right? I felt really refreshed. I have to do this again sometime. It felt so good. Now off to the Queer Chef’s. I’m joining the contest. Wish me luck.