Another year of interest?

Wow….it’s been quite “the” year.

At the LGBTQ party hosted by the US Embassy in Mexico

I’m not sure how most measure their years??? I measure mine not only by time, but by distance as well. We just need to to define our distance metric =]

So what has changed?

  • Well, I no longer fear or doubt myself. That’s a biggie!
  • Opinions are just that.
  • Social media aghhh…reach out rather than opt in!
  • I want to be a father.
  • I want a dog (cats can hang too).
  • I am a global citizen, start with you local community.

There has been one particular thing that did happen however that has been more than “quite” amazing.

I took a chance! That’s always scary of course….but isn’t that what life is all about?

Living the dream?

It hasn’t all been rose coloured glasses though. I’m finding myself mostly frustrated these days.

What’s worse, I feel like I’m clasping at my last straws of empathy….well….I don’t know that I totally agree with that.

One of the things that keeps me feeling human at this point in time is selfless giving. I don’t mean the selfless giving that is unhealthy, I mean the giving that made me empty my pockets to the family living in their street truck. It seems like such a simple gesture, but I would much rather actually see the smile, interact with the human, than have my bank account auto send a donation “somewhere”.

Regardless of those giving glimmers, in the daily drone, that daily hum, I do find myself thinking that I’m surrounded by completely clueless people. Trouble is, I know that “that” cannot be true.

I’m also now feeling more than ever, the constant tick of the clock. A constant that reminds me that I am on the slow burn home…and that tick only continues to get louder. Finding time seems to be the hardest thing of all. I mean, my last blog post was April…it’s November FFS and I’m still trying to find time to finish this! It’s not even about shifting priorities anymore!

And I guess there is still one thing lingering that I need to put to rest.

He is my dad.

It’s been years since we last spoke.

My father taught me that “Manners, maketh the man”, and that “Patience is a virtue”, trouble is we have reality to contend with.

My father is a drunk.

My father physically abused and raped my mum.

Lets just say it’s a difficult delimma distinguishing values.

He is now 72 years of age and I know there can’t be “too” much gas left in the tank. I’ve been replaying and repeating, how this next interaction will play out. What I would say? How would I confront? Would I even confront him at all? But I recently had some good advice, the next interaction is not about him at all. The next interaction is entirely about me.

“Dad, I am no longer scared of you, I do not live in fear. I didn’t make your choices. I am not a mistake.

I’m just me Dad, and I don’t need to prove that to you anymore.”

I’m not sure how most measure their years, I guess the question is, what is your metric?

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