I was maybe six or seven having moved into a new neighborhood when there was an older man with a book of names and their meanings. All of the neighborhood children were fascinated to discover something about themselves that made them uniquely them. In a mental age where we began to care about what we were to the world and the people around us, learning what we call ourselves matters.

To return to the “first” story of how the curse on our species began, the first charge is to imbue meaning into everything. As such, when transgender or performers select a name for themselves, it is an important process of self-discovery. I applaud it. But it also makes me look at the pronoun challenge we have in all language as we interpret what is male or female and how the lack of male spirituality spaces has evolved into the dynamics of a tussle between the sexes that, if we opted to share our knowledge of connecting to the world, may not have happened to the depth it has.

That brings me back to my parent dynamic. Since the global time out, I have been living with one half of my genetics. And it has made me do things I learn were problematic. Mainly jumping out of bed in response to an offer for something and venting. I know better but I did that. I am not sure if I mentioned the now-defunct Cherry Bomb vlog I used to turn into with this lovely individual from the UK who mentioned, how often do you want to tell the story you are telling.

And to vent to my family is amazing in some ways. It may make them think about what they are doing or turning a blind eye to. But in the same way, they have to want to change and make an effort in the same way. That is where my venting causes some pain and realizations- I am the problem as much as they have been. And as the slights keep coming, I can not react to them calmly on the surface and stuff my rage underneath.

So, I have to admit that my mom and dad were terrible to me. And their fear that people would see this made me scared to look for other parent figures to model or look to. It also made me devalue what a good parent should look like as well. It really impacted my choice not to have children. And I never had to look at that part of myself until I really wanted to be in a relationship that would require me to change my labels and not because someone else said I should want one.

So looking at myself, I do want a parent in some ways. Someone that will allow me to be raw and honest with the person I want to be and my calling. So I am embracing that I have needs and wants just like anybody. And it is okay to want things.

Taking adjectives out to ‘lunch’ to see what two cocktails does to their tongues.