I think the dominant motif running through my brain over the past 40 years has been, “F*** you, f*** you, f*** you, f*** you, why don’t you accept me? And why don’t you accept my father?”
All the while, I behave in ways that make it impossible for 98% of people to accept me.
I yearn to belong but feel equally driven to offend.
As I’ve aged, I’ve tried to finesse my outrageous behavior so that I can have the maximum of freedom while maintaining connection with the people most important to me.
It’s not worked out so well.
When did I come closest to working this thing out? When I stayed with the Muth family at Pacific Union College for the end of eighth grade and then for the summers before tenth and eleventh grades. Then I was with a family who consistently showed me supra-normal amounts of love, tolerance and understanding. It was during these times that the savage lion inside of me purred like a kitten.
