It’s not often that I actually sit myself down and definitively think about the fact that somebody’s a good person. I KNOW it, but I often don’t ponder it.
I’ve got a lot in common with my dad, most likely because he raised me to think like him and to not be prejudiced and that. I’ve always been able to talk to him much more easily than my mum – he knows where I truly met my boyfriend, Aspen; he’s been really accepting of my other relationships; we often have deep discussions about life, and ethics, and I love it.
Today, I got hit by how accepting he actually is, and how different he is to my mother and, I’m guessing, to a lot of other parents when it comes to this sort of thing. He has NEVER had a problem with Aspen, even chiding me when I ask for his permission for Aspen to come over – because, in his words, I’m 16 and can make my own decisions, so there’s no need to ask him. He let me go to my local theme park to meet what was then an internet friend, helping me and not kicking up a fuss. He’s been MORE than happy to help me because he realises I’m not naive and not a child, and that’s the key difference between my mother and him.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to see Aspen tomorrow, after about 2 weeks of not seeing him – that doesn’t seem like much, but it worried me. I’d discussed previously with dad about him coming over, but then I thought it couldn’t happen because we had to pick my mother up at the airport at 4. Then, he asked me this:
“Elm, what time’s Aspen coming over tomorrow?”
“Well, what time’s he coming over?”
“He can’t; we have to pick mum up tomorrow!”
“Um, yes he can; you can ask him if he wants to come over for. lunch and we can drop him off at the station afterwards.”
I was surprised, and I have no idea why. It’s probably because I had already assumed I couldn’t see him, and then for my dad to suggest it – without me saying anything – hit home.
Again, it’s in stark contrast to what my mum would have done. For God’s sake, she has no idea I met him on the internet, and I don’t think I can ever tell her because it’s something she can never understand. That’s terrible, but it’s the truth.
Another example of this is yesterday, I casually mentioned that there was a “Gay club” at lunch and he asked if I went, I said yes, and he said nothing on the matter whereas my mum would have questioned me, then went “Hmmmm,” in that way of hers.
Turns out, parents are people, not oppressive monsters. I guess I’ve started to appreciate that much more recently.
What are your parents, or parent figures, like? Do you trust one more than the other, or do you not trust your parent?
From Elm 🙂