"How was your workshop, Beck?" my dad asks me.
I tell him and my mom about how much I love CranioSacral and that eventually I want to take a BioAquatics course and work with dolphins! This leads into talking about all the workshops and traveling I've been doing lately, how I can afford it for now and "why not live it up while I'm uncommitted-- no man, no child, no pet. Just me. Committed to myself."
"Well it's your life, and you can choose your own adventure," my dad says.
"That's right! And right now I'm choosing to travel a lot and load up on workshops," I say, pleasantly surprised by my dad's supportive statement.
But then he says, "You should choose to get married while you're still young and pretty."
And then time stands still for a second.
Did he really just say that? What a way to ruin that feeling of support and understanding.
Internally my blood is on the verge of boiling. But I think of the locket I'm wearing, the locket I had just shown him I was wearing. It's one he gave to his mother, and she gave it to me. I started wearing it a week ago as a reminder of love and acceptance in the face of judgment and criticism. I didn't tell him that that's the meaning I assigned to it. But it is. And it helped. It helped remind me, in that particular moment, that his intention was love and support. Someone else could say the same words to me or to someone else and it would be clear that it was a put down, harsh, critical, negative. But with my dad, that's not the case. It's just that we see certain things very differently. So back in the moment, I maintain my cool by controlling my tone of voice while also showing my internal disappointment and reply,"Do you know how messed up that is for you to say to me? On so many different levels?"
In the past I would have been hyper-sensitive (maybe still am but respond differently) and defensive in response to a statement like this. I probably would have said the same thing, but with a very different tone of voice and attitude. If I hadn't been so grounded and full of self-love, my father's statement would have hit below the belt (though certainly not his intention), would have felt like a bowling ball in my stomach, would have filled me with sadness and rage. Instead I mostly felt disturbed that my dad would think that way and say something like that to me.
"What's wrong with what I said?" he asked.
"Well, first of all the 'should choose' part. I should choose to get married? Hello?!?! I've been married, and it didn't work out. And I can't just choose to get married."
So then he says something about putting myself in places and situations where I'd meet a potential husband.
"Like where? How? What? That's just not where I'm at-- I would love to share my life with someone, but not just anyone, and I'm certainly not interested in trying to find someone, or getting married for the sake of getting married, settling for someone who's not right for me out of fear that I better do so while I'm 'still young and pretty.'"
Which brings me the next part of my explanation about what's so messed up about his statement, and I say some things along the lines of, "While I'm still young and pretty, dad? Gee, thanks! Yes, I'm young and pretty, thanks, but I'll always be pretty. And aging is inevitable. And I deserve to be with somebody who sees my beauty inside and out regardless of age. Plus, I've got great genes! Look and you and mom. You both look so young for your age."
There was more about me being on a spiritual path, and my mom backing me up, and my dad listening politely, interjecting a little, but not saying much. The compliment on his and my mom's youthful appearance brought this conversation to a pleasant end. I tell my dad that I appreciate his concern, and I know he just wants me to be happy, but that we have different opinions on what that means. And in the great words of my dad, "I'm entitled to my opinion; you're entitled to yours."
And then I tease him a little by saying I'm gonna have to post a blog about this conversation.
And then he asks, "Do you think aliens will read your blog?"
My dad is so unpredictable. From serious to ridiculous, he's always got something interesting to say or ask. I smile and play along, "No! They don't have to read it. They just know what I write without reading it."
And then I said something about being descended from aliens. My mom says something about everyone coming from Mars.
My dad gets real serious again. Silence. And then he says, "I come from St. Louis, not from Mars."
I burst out laughing. And it's contagious; my parents laugh too. I tell my dad, "That's great. Great quote from the Judge. That one's gotta go down in history. I wanna put that on your tombstone!"
"Ha!" My dad laughs, likes the idea, and even gives me the ok, "you can put that on my tombstone."
And then my mom chimes in, "Well I come from Mars, not from Venus; nobody comes from Venus."
I start laughing at the cartoon-like image in my head. "Not that I like the thought of either of you dying, but I can see it now: side by side tombstones. Mom's says, 'I come from Mars, not from Venus,' and Dad's says, 'I come from St. Louis, not from Mars."
We all have a good laugh over that, and then as the laughter dies down, my dad asks, "But why are you thinking about my tombstone?"
We all laugh again.
It was nice to go from a potentially upsetting and volatile topic to such a silly conversation.... I love my parents. But I don't just love them; I actually like them too. And I am so grateful for that! So grateful for them. :)
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