… I’ve finally figured them out.
This post will bear witness to what is probably the most personal material I’ve ever published online. Even so, it’s gone through the censors and sanitization - I don’t really take to handing out details of my private life so casually. I might be entirely wrong in my evaluation, or this might only apply to the people I know, but I’m recording this to remind myself.
I’ve reached this conclusion after sixteen years (and a few months) of trial and error, about the last six of which were a fully conscious struggle-cum-lesson. Believe me, my life is characterized by friction. On a bad day, I’m self-righteous, arrogant, self-important and utterly devoid of sensitivity to another party’s feelings. Damn, I prolly make my parents’ lives suck.
What I’ve come to recognize, first and foremost, is that parents are human. They are not infallible. I used to have this misguided notion of my parents being the ultimate role models. In fact, not only are they sometimes wrong (in the sense of fundamental morals), they definitely do not fit the rigid mould I’ve created, selfishly, out of my own fantasies. They may not be perfect, but my definition of a perfect parent is flawed, too - and not being cut to this very ‘correct’ pattern of mine is what makes them special. They expose the flaws in my own thinking, such as this assumption. I must remember that they will never really comply, with or without coercion, to what I think is right or wrong, if it does not fit their definition of right or wrong.
I think that this retaining of their unique personalities is what I’ve come to respect. Respect, I believe, is of the utmost importance in a parent-child relationship. I recognize their right to rule with what they believe is right: because I, as well, claim the right to rebel with my own cause. Sometimes this, in my family, has led to devastating face-offs in which everyone (including my sister who gets caught in the crossfire) loses. Perhaps the struggle should be contained within reasonable limits. I respect my parents, and I’ve resolved to give in a little more often to ease their burden - what I feel they have done quite often for me, in turn.
The only obstacle I’ve yet to overcome is to convince my parents to respect me as a proper individual who has his own valid philosophy, not just as a skilled engineer of schemes to get his way, or as their precious baby. This, I’ve noticed, is quite tied to the concept of giving in, or, the superiority game - and of course the parent wants to win as much as the child. Perhaps in compromising so much I might’ve lost much of the valor or righteousness I’ve convinced myself I possessed by constantly sticking up for my point of view. But I really don’t feel like dragging the family down into a cesspit of in-fighting. Sometimes love triumphs over ideology - and, anyway, I know of no personal world-views that can be espoused as a hundred percent true - it makes no sense to break a sacred and beloved institution (the family) in search or fulfillment of what I know cannot be totally right.
Thus I’ve made myself out to be the balance of this precarious relationship. And I’m pretty sure my parents have reasoned themselves to be this same balance as well. I’m content with the knowledge that parents are not inherently belligerent - they may only seem that way from one this end of the relationship, but don’t forget: children may give a similar impression to parents. I’ve decided that I’d rather view parents as having more in common with their children than previously thought, rather than inherently ‘better’ or ‘more correct’ just because of seniority. Everyone has their stupid idiosyncrasies, but Mom and Dad, I love you.
