I'm different

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maxmordon

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I may not be Venezuelan, but as a Native American, I know exactly how max feels. I definitely feel a sense of responsibility to one day go back and try to help the native community and make a positive impact on the reservation. I didn't even grow up there. It's a sense of responsibility that comes from deep within me somewhere, and I don't even know exactly where. A native professor gave a keynote at a conference I helped arrange recently, and he brought up something I'll remember. Western civilization places a lot of emphasis on rights. The right to leave the rez. The right to leave Venezuela. But many native cultures have always placed more emphasis on responsibility. You can't just look out for yourself. At the same time, I want to live in a city. I want to work in the tech industry. I don't want to live on the reservation for the rest of my life. But I do want to go back and help. I think there's certainly a balance that can be made, there, max, and I think it's great that you want to go back and help your community. I think you're on a great path, and I'm sure you'll be able to find some semblance of balance between the life you want for yourself and the life you want to give to your community. I know I'll be working to try to achieve the same thing. :) ;)

You know, Kuwi. I guess that responsiblity you describe borns out of a sense of what would be opposite of entitlement, gratefulness, perhaps. We feel fortunate that we live a good life and have a higher education, something not everyone in our respective cultures have achieved easily, especially in the past. We see them, the unfortunate ones and hope that perhaps, helping a little, using this priviledge of ours, can, like Prometheus brought the fire to the humans, share this advantage with others.

Then, and I know that you share this with me, there's the sense of inadequacy. You see, my skin is relatively fair and my childhood quite sheltered, so I have always felt a a bit of an outcast with those I consider my own people. We speak the same language, but we at the same time, don't. They see me as a snobbish when I make a reference they don't get and even more out of synch when I don't get a reference of theirs. I feel in a bit of a limbo.

In my case, it's worse, I like to write and I write science fiction and sometimes I write in English and it means I'm not useful to the community. I don't know a trade that can help others. My grandfather wanted to be an artist, his father told him no: You can be a doctor, a teacher or an engineer, that's it. Grandpa became an agricultural engineer and now that is old and his dream, the dream of all the agricultural engineers of Venezuela being that alimentary self-suficiency a failure, I wonder if he had prefered to be an artist.

I deeply appreciate you, Kuwi. I wish I was more like, to be honest. And if you find the balance, please tell me. :)
 

maxmordon

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Hey Max, listen to Kuwisdelu. I don't know most of the folks in here very well but that is one heck of a good post.

Only you can decide whether you owe Venezuela anything, and we can all philosophize about it until the cows come home and never get to a conclusion. It doesn't matter. What matters is how you feel about it- it's your sense of rights and responsibilities, your impact on the world, and your happiness.

In a moment I'll tell you about feeling a similar way, but I'll leave that until last in case you want to skip it. Not everyone likes a long talker and that's okay.

My advice is twofold. First off, do not fear New York. If you have that inborn sense of duty to go back and improve things, you will feel it in your bones. These things are strong motivators and strong insulators against temptation. I think you may be selling yourself a bit short- you definitely come across as someone with the maturity and insight to do what you see as best rather than what you see as easiest.

So, yeah. Finding balance, man, it can be done, and you won't be the only one trying to do it. Take heart, my friend. That is all.

A balance can be done... I hope.

Sometimes I think I may be too harsh on me. Sometimes I feel I don't deserve to be happy.
 

maxmordon

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Dad wrote me this morning, I now have an address on West 26th street. Apparently it's somewhere near Chelsea, of what I have managed to see online.

Dad seems pretty excited about it but I fear now the opposite from before: That instead of being too uncaring, be too smothering. I love him, I guess and I wish he had a more important role within my life but it's still hard to say where the boundaries are. I want his guidance and care, but disdain when he starts asking me every single time we talk about my weight and hygiene and goes around saying "you should do this, not that" as if he was always there and that was the norm. Last time I stayed with him in Caracas I left a day before because of a mixture of both: He was abstent and always working and got frustrated whenever I didn't do the things exactly as he wanted to.

Then, after all what I have said here, there's the mother factor. Mom has always been overprotective of me. Last night I went back home walking at 7 PM from downtown and she was worried saying I should took a cab. Take a cab to go four short blocks, less than a mile. She regards me weak and naive, and in a way, I feel it's hers and grandma's nurturing that has made me weak and co-dependent of hers.
 

kuwisdelu

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Dad seems pretty excited about it but I fear now the opposite from before: That instead of being too uncaring, be too smothering. I love him, I guess and I wish he had a more important role within my life but it's still hard to say where the boundaries are. I want his guidance and care, but disdain when he starts asking me every single time we talk about my weight and hygiene and goes around saying "you should do this, not that" as if he was always there and that was the norm. Last time I stayed with him in Caracas I left a day before because of a mixture of both: He was abstent and always working and got frustrated whenever I didn't do the things exactly as he wanted to.

Max, you're a man. You're not a child anymore, even if you may sometimes feel like one. I struggle with the same thing. At some point, you may have to just tell him that, straight out. If he isn't satisfied with how you do things, you might have to tell him that you may be his son, but you're also your own man now, and you'll do things your own way. You want his companionship and care, but not at the expense of your own identity.
 

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Max, you're a man. You're not a child anymore, even if you may sometimes feel like one. I struggle with the same thing. At some point, you may have to just tell him that, straight out. If he isn't satisfied with how you do things, you might have to tell him that you may be his son, but you're also your own man now, and you'll do things your own way. You want his companionship and care, but not at the expense of your own identity.

Quite true, Kuwi. I need to stand on myself. Though I know he means well, trying to compaste all those years I didn't spend time with him.
 

kuwisdelu

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Max, I really do think of one of these days were going to find ourselves at a cafe somewhere, and we're going to have a lot to talk about.
 

maxmordon

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Max, I really do think of one of these days were going to find ourselves at a cafe somewhere, and we're going to have a lot to talk about.

Funny, or weirdly, enough I was thinking exactly this earlier today.

Perhaps, this trip to the US will lead to me visiting more regularly and exploring around. Having a chance to meet some of the wonderful people I have met online and consider close to me. :)
 

Jericho McKraven

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Everyone is weird in their own way. So, I guess that makes us all normal. Sadly, very few people seem to really understand that and they constantly have to berate others to make themselves feel superior. Those kind of people don't matter anyways, all that matters is those who accept us for who we are and love us for the ways that we stand apart from what the world wants us to be.
 

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I've been away from this forum for quite some time, so I only just now read this thread. I must say, it really resonates with me.

I'm not quite sure what I am. I grew up with four siblings, 3 brothers and 1 sister. It was very much an alpha male household. From the beginning I was different from them. I was intellectual where they were athletic, pacifistic where they tended to settle disputes with violence. On a fundamental level I thought and behaved differently from my peers.

I do not want to be the "man of the house." I do not want to be the provider, the earner, the Mr. Fix-It. I do not want to be the dominant force in the relationship. On the seldom occasions when I allow myself to imagine such a future, I see myself staying at home and writing my novels, taking care of the house in my partner's absence. I want to do the shopping, the cooking, etc. I see myself in more of a submissive and nurturing role.

This is quite at odds with how I was raised. I was taught to be gregarious, yet I am a loner. I was raised to be a rugged individualist, yet I do not want power. I was taught to be confrontational, yet I only desire peace. In the eyes of my family, this makes me weak, lazy, a selfish leech.

I'm still not sure what I think about sex in general. I find the intimacy appealing, but the act itself seems awkward. Then again, I've never had sex. I've never even been kissed. Yet another unmanly thing for me to say.

By society's definitions I am the quintessential loser. I'm told I should feel very, deeply, ashamed of myself. People have been harassed, bullied, and goaded to commit suicide for less. It's one reason why I am hesitant to involve myself with other people. I fear the sheer amount of unreasoning hatred they are capable of producing.

I have a crippling fear of people, to the point where I am loathe to even leave the house. Human beings are an unknown quantity, one that could have potentially ruinous effects. They are unpredictable, volatile, and possibly violent. They are quick to judge and slow to forgive. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to earn their respect, and only a single slip to lose it all. At least, that has been my lifelong experience.

I question whether love, as I understand it, even exists. Each day I see more evidence that people are a selfish, uncaring bunch. How can something as unselfish as love exist in such a selfish people? Perhaps I am simply biased, since I've never felt loved by anyone and been hated for even the flimsiest of reasons.
 

maxmordon

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I've been away from this forum for quite some time, so I only just now read this thread. I must say, it really resonates with me.

I'm not quite sure what I am. I grew up with four siblings, 3 brothers and 1 sister. It was very much an alpha male household. From the beginning I was different from them. I was intellectual where they were athletic, pacifistic where they tended to settle disputes with violence. On a fundamental level I thought and behaved differently from my peers.

I do not want to be the "man of the house." I do not want to be the provider, the earner, the Mr. Fix-It. I do not want to be the dominant force in the relationship. On the seldom occasions when I allow myself to imagine such a future, I see myself staying at home and writing my novels, taking care of the house in my partner's absence. I want to do the shopping, the cooking, etc. I see myself in more of a submissive and nurturing role.

This is quite at odds with how I was raised. I was taught to be gregarious, yet I am a loner. I was raised to be a rugged individualist, yet I do not want power. I was taught to be confrontational, yet I only desire peace. In the eyes of my family, this makes me weak, lazy, a selfish leech.

I'm still not sure what I think about sex in general. I find the intimacy appealing, but the act itself seems awkward. Then again, I've never had sex. I've never even been kissed. Yet another unmanly thing for me to say.

By society's definitions I am the quintessential loser. I'm told I should feel very, deeply, ashamed of myself. People have been harassed, bullied, and goaded to commit suicide for less. It's one reason why I am hesitant to involve myself with other people. I fear the sheer amount of unreasoning hatred they are capable of producing.

I have a crippling fear of people, to the point where I am loathe to even leave the house. Human beings are an unknown quantity, one that could have potentially ruinous effects. They are unpredictable, volatile, and possibly violent. They are quick to judge and slow to forgive. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to earn their respect, and only a single slip to lose it all. At least, that has been my lifelong experience.

I question whether love, as I understand it, even exists. Each day I see more evidence that people are a selfish, uncaring bunch. How can something as unselfish as love exist in such a selfish people? Perhaps I am simply biased, since I've never felt loved by anyone and been hated for even the flimsiest of reasons.

I really don't know what to say about it, lud. I have fallen into quiet dispair more than once and what has made me go on has been having a set or goal to myself withs something I deeply enjoy: writing. And the care and attention of lots of great people, both on and offline. Think on this quote by Italo Calvino:

“The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.”
 

Raventongue

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Sometimes I think I may be too harsh on me. Sometimes I feel I don't deserve to be happy.

I get the frequent impression that you're too harsh on yourself. Everyone needs to be a little harsh on themselves- but only a little. All in all, people seem to do their best work in all areas of life when they treat themselves with profound kindness. Remind yourself of that. The gentler you are with yourself, the better for everyone- not just you, everyone.
 

maxmordon

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I get the frequent impression that you're too harsh on yourself. Everyone needs to be a little harsh on themselves- but only a little. All in all, people seem to do their best work in all areas of life when they treat themselves with profound kindness. Remind yourself of that. The gentler you are with yourself, the better for everyone- not just you, everyone.

Thank you, Raven. :)

I guess it's a bit of this feeling of being "different" because of it, a bit inferior than everyone else and also the sensation of not doing half of the thing I should/could/must be doing.

Babysteps, I guess.
 

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I just finished reading this whole thread, and it all really resonated with me.
I was the weirdo growing up too - the definition of tomboy. I played sports, softball, rugby, martial arts. I shaved my head and wore guys clothes.
Meanwhile, my sister was the girly girl, long hair, makeup, dances, crushes- the whole 9 yards.
Fast forward to present day, I'm married to a 6'4 viking of a man, and she's married to a wonderful lady. Needless to say, the neighbors are still scratching their heads on that one.

To further confuse them, my husband is introverted and very shy, he drinks those pretty cocktail drinks with the curly straws and the umbrellas. I drink draft, swear like a sailor, and have a generally abrasive demeanor. So, obviously I'm the dom, right? Nope. When we're alone, he's the boss.
Both of us use our personalities as a shield, out in the world. In the privacy of our home, he's able to be confident and more aggressive, and I feel safe letting him take control.

Stereo types and expectations can be confusing, even when you're trying to figure out stuff about yourself. There were times in my teens where I wondered if I was a lesbian. All the signs were there, everyone told me so. I even find women more visually appealing. But when it came down to it I brought home a dude.

The hard part is separating yourself from all the things you're "supposed" to be, want, need - and figure out what you actually are, want, and need

I guess it's a bit of this feeling of being "different" because of it, a bit inferior than everyone else and also the sensation of not doing half of the thing I should/could/must be doing.

There are times I feel like this too. It can get pretty distressing, wearing my frumpy jeans and tees, with my hair a frizz, no makeup, and just a wedding ring to dazzle myself up -- while the usual woman in down town Toronto is 9 feet of legs on high heels, salon hair, press on nails, and a dress that costs as much as much as my entire wardrobe covering their yoga sculpted, wheat grass-eating body.
I have to wonder if I'm just not cut out for this 'woman' thing. But, at the end of the day, I really don't care about what I look like, I'd rather have a beer with my steak than wear a size 5, and you can't play Starcraft with press on nails.
I'm lucky enough to have a few good friends who like my flavor of weird, and even luckier to have found a man who's weird blends so well with my own.

Everyone's got their own quirks and foibles, some of us just have more obvious ones. I just hope everyone finds the right cocktail of people to blend with their own weirdness :)
 
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maxmordon

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Peru has been awesome. I have learned a whole new face of South America and I have seen very little: viceroys and conquistadors, native empires' rise and demise, monasteries full of medieval libraries upstairs and skeletons downstairs. At first it felt odd since, as a Latin American country, there are many similar things but completely new. It was like crossing universes a la Fringe, where here I see the same type of products sold with brands never heard before or things that have long been forgotten in Venezuela (sodas in glass bottles, actual wooden furniture) still current with some things in Venezuela still appearing quaint to them (hotels with keys instead of cards, etc.)

Finally arrived to Cuzco today, have seen so far a monastery built over an ancient Inca temple, a cathedral where the altars are built of gold and silver and Jesus has native features and is dressed like an Incan.

Plus, I had my first ale :D and I think going to a better-off country like Peru where I'm outside my confort zone has given me some trust. I have flirted a bit with both a late 30's Chilean woman and a mid 20's Belgian packbacker. Not sure if they caught up, or I missed to get their cues, but felt swell. :)
 

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Isn't travel wonderful! And, no I'm not just thinking of the ale and the flirting. Seeing new stuff, or old stuff through new eyes, leads to thinking new thoughts and widening horizons.
 

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I was bullied in Middle school for being a loner and was teased, with the nickname The Priest for being quiet, smart, shy and wearing the shirt buttons all the way up. I saw Mishima when I was 10 and felt related, saw it again last month and I still feel related.
Max, you remind me a little of my 11-year-old. He wears his shirts buttoned to the top, plays the violin (his choice) and can build absolutely anything with a little cardboard and tape. He couldn't care less about sports. Oh, and he stutters.

In other words, he is perfect.
 

maxmordon

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Max, you remind me a little of my 11-year-old. He wears his shirts buttoned to the top, plays the violin (his choice) and can build absolutely anything with a little cardboard and tape. He couldn't care less about sports. Oh, and he stutters.

In other words, he is perfect.

He's precious, Devil. :) Take care of him.
 

maxmordon

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In the last month, I feel I have done some personal growth. My stepfather didn't came to the trip to Peru, so I didn't felt as intimidated as I usually feel and, for the first time, I felt my mother needed as an adult. I had to fill the forms, sometimes go out and buy the food or exchange the currency at nights and at times waking up earlier to wake her and my little sister up. She said she was surprised, expecting to me be more of a meek, needed to be led anywhere and never taking iniciative since that's a bit of how I act in the apartment due to with mother and stepfather I tend to feel I would be overstepping their authority.

It felt like a training to NYC, as well. The first two days I was in awe: Couldn't believe how tall the buildings were, how diverse was the people, how every in Manhattan seemed to fit perfectly in such space. Also, I was surprised how everything in Manhattan felt so safe and relaxed. Due to crime and violence in Venezuela, most people are afraid walking the streets after sunset in my hometown, for example, with murder and manslaugther being the most common cause of death in the country.

The whole trip felt like life was telling me something. "There's nothing to fear here, son" My dad told to me. "You're still young, you need to explore and experiment" my cousin, who has been leaving there for 4 years, told to me. "Please, if anything, please yourself." An older gay man told me in a bar.

And you know what, that's something I learned in this trip. I deserve to be happy and happy on my own way. I like to make others happy, yes, but I must not forget also give me some space and care. I had my free two-days testing sample of what adulthood can be, when dad went for sailing 30 hours straight from Staten Island to Montauk, more of dad and new experience on a later post, though. And you know what? That adulthood feeling was great, I feel I finally have something to aspire to after college.
 

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Max, it's really hard to encapsulate this in words, but sometimes, looking at you and your journey, I feel as if the whole thing is completely and utterly gorgeous, like looking at a piece of fine art that moves your soul.

It makes me want to be better in this world. :) Some power you have there, my friend.
 

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Max, it's really hard to encapsulate this in words, but sometimes, looking at you and your journey, I feel as if the whole thing is completely and utterly gorgeous, like looking at a piece of fine art that moves your soul.

It makes me want to be better in this world. :) Some power you have there, my friend.

Thank you, sianshan. You know, I had my doubts on continuing this thread. It made me feel it was selfish and too blog-like for the QUILTBAG section, but I do go on because, honestly, I feel the people on AW to be not unlike a family online.

I'm no piece of art, trust me. :) I just go on trying to evolve bit by bit and hoping that, some day, I will find a position in life where I can lay and feel this is actually what I am and how I wish to stay.
 
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