To be curious and to dare

I decided to be curious about them.

I do not understand in what way a life made out of production line sex , drugs, clubbing and endless chatting  is worth living, but  I am curious about the reason. The reason for living in this way. I’ve always been curious. There is a certain degree of resistance from my side in regards to such a life, without going deeper and understanding the meaning of your actions before doing them, but I also have to admit that I envy those who can do it. Their freedom is atractive.

I like music, so we are going to talk and listen to music. I like laughing and joking, so we are going to laugh. I am going to make jokes on them like they do it on me and the ice will melt. 

Them being my funny, strange and dysfunctional  Italian colleagues. Here’ the positive thing. Thank’s to them I had the chance to jump back in time, deeper into my internal being and ask myself questions.

I grew up in an environment where moral, the word of the bible, the church was and still is deeply infused  into the mind of my parents, persons of a certain age, the family and society as a whole. Those rules are not always respecte thus the tension between knowing that there are these things to respect and failing to do it perfectly, this tension is paralyzing life. 

I am happy to say that during the past days we, my parents, my sister, passed over a difficult moment, at least for me. It all started because of this paralyzing sentiment that I had when confronted with an extremely different way of living, as mentioned here Where I’m @

There was a moment in the past, when I decided to be curious about my parents, about relationships with parents in general.

As a child I felt lost and afraid all the time. My mind could not understand at that time why. I used every possibility life gave me to distance myself in order to get it, to see the mechanics of the whole spiel from afar. 

It takes a whole lot of time to do that. Because the smog in the mind is dence and we are not taking care of the pollution inside. Pollution created by out external actions.

During these last days I got it. I dared to understand.

I interrupted any communication with them for a week.

I felt the need of being isolated. I arrived to a point when I could not say anything. My life choices were put under deep doubt. It was a emotional interruption more than anything. You might also have  felt the feeling of being connected to someone from far away . The physical presence is not a must.So, I blocked that emotional connection. They felt it but I resisted the pressure and kept silent. 

I have not seen them more than a year now. We keep in touch, we write and discuss and encourage each other. We pass though seasons together. Leaves fall here and there, but not at the  same time. My sister is a brave young entrepreneur, in Moldova, the land of dispare and impossibility, they say. ( It depends on a lot of things). But she is doing it, with highs and lows. Sometimes she asks me for advice. In that moment I feel happy over the moon. After the pick moment is gone and the problem solved I feel deflated, left to my own sorrow. (Not to mention that I love my sorrow because it keeps me grounded, we are friends now ).

The same with my father and mother. It seems that there is this pattern going on.

I took over the role of the kind, wise, silent owl sitting on a branch observing each move. And they, in order to keep the connection with me, interact only when they feel that the owl could help, or have something to say. In this way the owl will feel needed and they will feel at peace with themselves.

Why and when did it all start?

It started years ago, when lost and not knowing what the heck am I doing here on this plane I decided to be my own mother, father, sister, brother. Pfui! What a load! I felt my parents’  difficulty in dealing with life and children and I decided to take the lead of my life. My mind. 

What did it mean for my parents, my sister? It meant that I have gone astray, gone a little bit crazy. Which is completely  true, haha! My parents, and parents in general, have certain expectations  from their children.They assign them roles. They have this particular obsession with assigning roles and transforming the children into better versions of themselves, if possible. If you as a child dare to say that you might have  different desires, views and needs, there will be trouble.

My parents for example, on the surface did give us the freedom to choose and do what we like (can, would be more precise, because there was not much to choose from) but at an unconscious level they implanted these restrictions, these rules that represent a copy  of their own restrictions, barriers and  fears. Internal restictions and fears that is.

For example, on the surface my parents told me that I can play with anyone, but when listening to them closely at home talking, certain children or families were not seen as intractable. There was this belief that we are poor and children of more wealthy families will only mock us. Another example, as a child I kept listening to adults saying that I was such a pretty girl. They would even strike my cheeks and look at me in a strange ways. They would talk about me finding a “good” man to marry, thanks to the generosity of the mother nature and to my psychical mother, of course. Mother who was very proud that  her work , the pain, the unfulfilled personal needs-amounted into the creation of me and my sister. At home I was told not to believe anyone. Men just want to make fun of you and leave. Why? Because of the experience my parents had, my mother and her mother and god knows how deep it goes.

My role was to be wise and beautiful and floate through life without getting dirty. Detect the one man of my life and not become a prostitute. Which takes place if you dare to live and, oh god, make love to different humans, men, preferably.

I was petrified. I did not know how to be. And I was not. Blocked for years. I was afraid of not accomplishing my assigned role and thus, making my parents sad and not proud. I was afraid of the dirty world. I was under the influence of these restrictions for years, even when I was far way. Even when I emerged in the fashion world where your sexuality is everything you have. It is your last card, it is your source of force. I did not own it.

So you see, parents with all their good intentions, do tend to treat their children as puppies. When they grow they choose to tie them close to home, if not knowing how to deal with the life inside of those puppies. This happens because parents themselves do not know how to deal with life, emotions, desires, thoughts of their own. This is understandable. To be kept accountable  of another life is quite crashing and overwhelming.

After the interruption I chose to talk again to my parents but in a different way. I want to be witty like the  owl (I like owls, they are pretty) but I do not want them to see me in that fix position. I want dynamics, openes, non pretense, understanding and respect of what is.

I want to fly.

So, my message, in case you have difficulties with your role as a child, is to take a step back, feel what is it that you want to do with your time on Earth, and then make the courageous step ahead and speak about it. Your parents will be also relieved, after the initial shock. At least they will know you have touched ground.

And you can fly again.

From the  TOP of the house where I grew up in Moldova. Dreaming about flying. 



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