Chapter 34
Jake
I ’ve been waiting for years to say those things to my mom. I thought when it finally happened I would feel proud or empowered, but instead the whole confrontation left me feeling like complete garbage. I don’t think I did anything wrong, but I’m sure she would say the same thing on her end. She never thinks she’s part of the problem, and I don’t want to be like that. I’m willing to take ownership of my part in this weird dynamic with my parents, but I still don’t understand what my part actually is.
I’m so exhausted I crash as soon as I’m home, even though it’s barely lunchtime. Hazel comes to the bed and rests her face next to mine. She stays quiet, just letting me know she’s here.
I pull out my phone and text Monica to ask if she happens to have any availability for a telehealth session today. Thankfully, she has a cancellation, so it isn’t long before I’m logging on and talking to my therapist through my phone screen. We’ve been working together for a few months now, and it’s getting much easier to vocalize the things I need to tell her, even if they are still embarrassing most of the time. I give her a brief overview of what happened today.
“Like I’ve told you before, my mom is…difficult. And sometimes I even worry it might be why I’m drawn to Alice. I don’t know if that’s healthy.”
Logically, I know masculinity is a social construct or whatever, but I’ve never felt like less of a man than I do sitting here confessing my mommy issues and knowing I’ve been too much of a coward to confront them. Do I get off on fighting with Alice just because my mom gives me such a hard time about everything? That’s pretty sick.
“Do you find it difficult to be around Alice?” Something about the way Monica words the question makes me pause before I answer. Sure, there are a lot of things about Alice that are hard to deal with. She’s stubborn. She loves getting under my skin. She’s pushy. She won’t take no for an answer. She hates to admit when she’s wrong, and her apologies still kind of suck. But she’s really working on all of that stuff, and being around her? It’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. She’s funny, and she’s smart, and she pushes me to fight for what I want.
“No. Not at all. I like being with her. But we argue all the time.”
“What do you argue about?”
“Mostly small things. We bicker over what show to watch or what to order for dinner. We can’t agree on a paint color for the bathroom in the studio, and we have vastly different opinions about books.” There are plenty of other examples. Like how she still freaks out if I try to buy her something as small as a soda. She’s constantly misplacing important papers because she can’t stick to a filing system. I could go on, but I’m not sure any of those things really matter. I’m starting to see where Monica’s going with this. “When it comes to the big stuff, though, we’re almost always on the same page. She loves the studio as much as I do. She goes out of her way to help me take care of Hazel. We have similar views about a lot of big-ticket items, like how neither of us wants to get married because we’ve both seen our parents get trapped in unhappy situations.”
“It sounds like Alice is important to you. I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“I think I love her,” I admit.
“Have you told her that?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“Do you think you should?”
“I know I should, but I also know I need to talk to my parents about all of this. I can’t keep asking Alice to ignore their prejudice against her or her family. It’s not fair for me to put her in that position. Plus, I’m scared it will make her go back to hating me the way she used to.” I scrub a hand down my face. “But it’s not going to be an easy conversation. My parents aren’t going to take it well. They’re already upset with me.”
“I’ve noticed you seem to focus a great deal on the opinions of others. Why do you think it matters so much to you if people think highly of you?”
My brow pulls tight, and I shake my head. “Everyone cares what people think.”
“Do they?”
“Don’t they? Doesn’t everyone have a desire to belikable? I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“What happens when you make a decision someone disagrees with?”
“They get mad.”
“What else?”
“I feel guilty.”
“Are you thinking about a specific example?”
“Maybe when I got my tattoos? My parents were disappointed. They hate them. This is going to be so much worse. They’ve explicitly said they don’t want me to be with Alice.”
“And it bothers you when they are disappointed?”
“I wish it didn’t. But yeah. My mom said some stuff today that really hurt. I’ve spent so much time trying to make her and my dad proud. Like maybe if I could do everything right, they could focus on how happy I make them rather than how miserable they make themselves. As if I could fix it by receiving another perfect report card or winning another game. It’s hard to accept it’s not going to happen. Nothing will ever be good enough, no matter what I do.”
“After their initial disappointment, what was the effect of your decision to get a tattoo? Did anyone actually suffer because of it? Do you believe you would make the same choice again, given the option?”
I nod. I would, and I did. I got my second sleeve done, even though I knew it would piss them off. “I guess nothing really happened. I have to deal with a few sighs and passive-aggressive comments from my mom now. She asks me to wear long sleeves to holiday parties, but that’s about it. My dad just pretends he can’t see them. It’s annoying, but it’s not like I expected them to open a social media account to show off my ink. The world kept spinning.”
“Body modifications like piercings and tattoos are morally neutral, just like the clothes we wear or the hairstyles we choose. Other people might carry their own feelings about them, but those feelings are theirs to hold. You are not responsible for other people’s reactions or emotions when it comes to the morally neutral choices you make for your own life.”
I have to clear my throat because that last sentence hit me like a sucker punch. She’s right. None of the things my parents are upset with me about are life-or-death decisions. Does it really matter in the end if they don’t like my career choice, or the fact that I’m going to therapy, or Alice’s family not having as much money as they do? If it’s true there are no serious consequences for any of the things causing me so much stress, then why am I still so nervous about disappointing my mom and dad?
“I think it’s more that I know the choices I’m making are going to lead to a lot of rejection.” Choosing Alice will probably destroy any shot at rebuilding a relationship with my parents, and yet I’m doing it on purpose. Even though I know they’re wrong, the weight of this kind of choice is still a lot.
“It’s true, that can happen sometimes. Although, we never truly know how others will respond until we are in the situation, and regardless of how they handle their emotions or behaviors, we are still only responsible for our own feelings and actions. Still, it’s hard when we believe that a lack of perfection will equal rejection.” Monica’s timer beeps off-screen. “That’s our time, Jake. But before we go, I want to remind you that you don’t have to be perfect to be loved. But we do need to love ourselves first, and part of loving ourselves means knowing we deserve to be treated with respect.”
I thank her and hang up. I know what I need to do, but I’m not looking forward to it.
When I pull up to the house, Ms. Honey waves to me from the rocking chair on her front porch across the street. I nod at her, then I knock before letting myself in through my parents’ unlocked front door. They’re in the middle of an argument and I hear my name, which is no surprise. What I came here to say won’t make it any better. But no matter how much I wish things were different, I can’t change them any more than they can change me. Like Monica said, all I can do is focus on myself and the way I want to act toward the people who matter to me. Right now, that means protecting Alice and myself from this toxicity.
I clear my throat. Both of them stop mid-sentence and turn in my direction. They were so busy arguing they didn’t notice me come in.
“Hi. I want to talk about what happened at the studio.”
“Ah yes, the studio. The waterlogged building where our son is offering his coloring book classes. What’s happened now? What is he talking about?” My dad asks my mother, as if I can’t speak for myself. I pull my shoulders back and force myself to take a long breath through my nose and let it out slowly. I won’t let them get to me. Not this time.
“There was a misunderstanding earlier. It’s been handled,” my mom tries to assure him.
I cut her off. “No one misunderstood anything. Your intentions were clear, and Alice deserves a lot more respect from both of you. Quite frankly, so do I. But I’ve accepted that’s not likely to happen in this lifetime, so I only ask that you don’t treat her like that again.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not as though this little fling with that girl will go anywhere.” My mom tilts her head up. It’s her version of rolling her eyes, which she won’t do because it’s bad manners, although apparently disparaging my girlfriend in front of me is within the etiquette guidelines. I’m so over this.
“Do not speak about her that way. Alice has a name, and if you’d like to remain on civil terms with me, you need to learn to use it.”
She gasps and grabs the neckline of her sweater. “Do you see what this girl is doing to you? I cannot believe the way you are speaking to me today. Your own mother. Shameful is what it is.”
My dad glares at me and lets out a low groan of disapproval.
I’m done.
“You know what? You’re right, Mom. It is a shame. It’s a shame I’ve let this go on as long as it has. Look, Alice is important to me. She has always been important to me, and I’m not going to allow anyone to treat her this way. Even you. Especially you.”
“What are you saying, Jacob?”
Isn’t it obvious?
“I will not lose Alice. I’d rather not lose you either, but if you make me choose, you will not like the outcome.”
Mom is taken aback for a second, then she straightens her shoulders. “I see.”
We’re frozen in a silent stand-off, and I can hear the antique clock on the mantle ticking the seconds away. I will maintain this uncomfortable eye contact for as long as it takes.
Finally, Mom speaks again. “Honey Daniels was right.”
“What are you talking about?” What would Ms. Honey have to say about this?
“She saw this coming, and she told me as much at the wedding. She thought you and Alice looked smitten while you were dancing. It was her opinion I was being too harsh on you both. I thought it was quite an overstep, but clearly you share her view. I will not apologize for wanting the best for my son. Regardless, we can certainly be civil, can’t we Ward?”
“What kind of question is that? We’ve always been civil with the girl.”
“Alice,” I growl. “Use. Her. Name.”
“Yes, Alice,” my father agrees. “Fine. Are we done with this little display?”
It’s not the complete turn-around I was hoping for, but it’s as good as I’m going to get tonight, and probably more than I expected. I know most of their frustration has nothing to do with Alice. It’s me. They think I’m a disappointment and maybe, according to their definition, I am.
I take a step forward.
I did drop out of school. I did cover my body in ink. I did choose an unstable career path. And yes, I did fall for a girl from the other side of town. Those were all things I needed to do to find myself and be happy, and despite what my parents think, they are all morally neutral. I haven’t done anything wrong. Just because someone drew a map for my life doesn’t mean I have to follow the path they laid out. If they’re upset or disappointed, those are their feelings to hold.
“I love you, both.” I hold out my arms and offer my mom a hug, which she awkwardly accepts. She leans into me sideways and pats my arm before she pulls away. Never much for affection, my dad only clears his throat and nods.
Then I let go.
I don’t know if they realize they get to decide if this is a goodbye. Maybe they’ll come around one day, and I hope they do. But their choices are on them. My future is waiting outside of this house.