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This ws triggered by a sentence in the Satinover article (referenced in the "for discussion" thread) - "maybe it was just that his own needs were unique enough that his father, a decent man, could never quite find the right way to relate to him " True enough, if not finding the right way means verbal, physical, and emotional abuse.
I know that this isn't the case for everyone (tho' it was for me), and is certainly not a cause of my homosexuality (although possibly a result of it). But it got me to thinking about rejection in a broader sense. One of my favourite bits in one of my favourite gay stories (Brew Maxwell's Foley-Mashburn Saga) has a character saying "When you're rejected like I was, you can do one of two things. You can consider yourself a reject and give up, or you can fight to be number one. I chose to fight. It was a conscious choice, and I'm glad I made it, "
I think I made the same choice, although for much of my life it wasn't conscious. It accounts for the years I spent as a workaholic, the extreme drive I seemed to have to earn the respect of professional colleagues, and probably my unwillingness to do things that I was lousy at but might be fun (like most sports). It probably also accounts for my need to feel that I am in some sense contributing to society ...
So, I wondered if anyone else here who has experience of rejection had had this kind of reaction, or indeed any other reaction to it.
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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I was rejected repeatedly over my school years because I was not good at sports, etc. It really hurt because I really wanted to be able to participate and do it well. I lay a lot of the blame for those things on my father who couldn't be bothered to help me learn how to bat the ball, catch it, or any of the other things a father traditionally helps his son learn how to do.
My response? Same as yours. Screw it! I ain't gonna even bother. Period. End of discussion! You couldn't get me to go out and shoot a basket today.
I've been thinking about this issue some lately and wondering if I'm giving the bullies, and indeed my dad, too much power. Why not go out and shoot a basket? Why not go out and play like I wanted to be able to do as a kid? What will it hurt if I only make 1 basket in 20 tries? Something to think about.
Thanks for this thread. It's caused me to do some thinking (which is a good thing... I think...)
Teddy
“There's no grays, only white that's got grubby. I'm surprised you don't know that. And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That's what sin is.” - Terry Pratchett
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cossie
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On fire! |
Location: Exiled in North East Engl...
Registered: July 2003
Messages: 1699
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... but my experience was different from yours.
I grew up in an extended rural family. My dad was the income-earner of the household, but when I was a small child the household also included my grandmother, a long-time widow with a strong personality borne of her difficult experiences (my grandfather died 30 years before I was born), my mother (who was clearly intimidated by my grandmother and my aunt), my unmarried aunt, who was the eldest of her siblings, an uncle, who was terminally ill with multiple sclerosis, and his daughter - my cousin - about fifteen years older than I was, and deserted by her mother when my uncle's illness became apparent.
I was never abused within the family - on the contrary, everyone was kind to me - but I always felt insecure, and my dad always seemed a remote figure, though I loved the few opportunities I had to be with him. On a Sunday morning, he always (from I was 4 or 5) took me with him to milk our cows; on the way home, we would call at his aunt's (where I was always fussed over), and then he'd call for a pint at the pub, while I sat outside watching the bowlers playing on the bowling green, fortified by a glass of limeade and a packet of crisps. He also took me with him to his allotment (a legacy of the wartime 'Dig for Victory' campaign) where I develped a taste for 'Duke of York' peas and several other delicacies. But, whilst he was always kind, he was never demonstrative - and that, above all, was what I wanted.
As an adult, he and I became very close indeed. We had some wonderful times together. But when I tackled him about his lack of demonstrative affection when I was a young child, he argued that he should 'leave me to grow up in my own way'. He died 15 years ago, and I still miss him terribly, but he was wrong. If you love someone, that love should be demonstrated today, and every day. I have tried to learn from my experiences; I can only hope that I have been successful.
For a' that an' a' that,
It's comin' yet for a' that,
That man tae man, the worrld o'er
Shall brithers be, for a' that.
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13796
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I think the rejection issue warrants a statistical study rather than statements that we "were affected" personally.
Alongside me at school were many other dorks and dweebs who "got picked last" for teams etc, who were "good academically" etc.
I would expect 90% of we rejected dorks and dweebs to be happily hterosexual. I know that a number are because I am in touch with some quite regularly.
It;s the same with anything this guy postulates. We will self identify with sufficient of his alleged causalities to make it certain that we are homosexual because of those things. But so will sufficient heterosexuals!
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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I have been interested in reading this and its 'mother thread' (for discussion) although I haven't felt able to add anything.
NW, did you ever find out why you were the least favoured of the three siblings?
I draw great comfort from the fact that I share similarities in life and upbringing with many of the posters in these two threads.
Until I was thirteen my father spent a lot of time away with the Royal Navy and so I lacked that influence in my early years.
Hugs
Nigel
I dream of boys with big bulges in their trousers,
Never of girls with big bulges in their blouses.
…and look forward to meeting you in Cóito.
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marc
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Needs to get a life! |
Registered: March 2003
Messages: 4729
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My Dad was rarely at home as he was busy with his work. When we ever did anything is was as part of the greater family and never ever one on one.
As a youth I can not remember him actually talking to me....
My Mother however... she was always home.... but not.... She was of the 1950's bridge, mah jong, cha cha, cocktails at 4, make everything look proper no matter how much it wasnt genra of middle class aspiring to climb the social ladder breed of American housewife.
I was not to be seen when she was "entertaining".... I was not to be heard....
I learned very early to "not be there".... If I ever was discovered it was my fault that I distroyed her day....
During the 60's..... She discovered Europe..... so I was sent off to summer camp..... not in and of itself a bad experience..... At least I was away from home and on "my own" more or less.....
Did I feel rejected.... I don't know... I do know I wanted more then I got though....
whatever.......
Life is great for me... Most of the time... But then I meet people online... Very few are real friends... Many say they are but know nothing of what it means... Some say they are, but are so shallow...
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marc
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Needs to get a life! |
Registered: March 2003
Messages: 4729
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That being said.... We really didn't begin to build a friendly.... healthy family relationship until I was in my early 30's or so....
I don't know if it was because of some inner guilt or perhaps just realizing I was never going to alter who I was that things finally began to smooth over...... I guess I never will now......
But.... the last several years we were as close as anyone could be....
I am at least glad of that....
Life is great for me... Most of the time... But then I meet people online... Very few are real friends... Many say they are but know nothing of what it means... Some say they are, but are so shallow...
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Oh, I don't think that rejection causes homosexuality - if anything, homosexuality causes rejection! It does seem probable to me that some gay adolescents miss out on the opportunity to catch up on cuddles, simply because they get fewer socially-approved opportunities to hug guys than their straight equivalents do to hug girls ... which may mean that the experience of rejection is more difficult to get over.
But my interest is more in the way people handle rejection (by those who "should" *not* have have rejected them - parents, siblings, teachers etc) of whatever nature.
In my own case, it left me very "driven" (I needed to excel, in order to get rid of the ghost of 'not being good enough to be accepted'). It also left me needing the security of hugs 'n cuddles a lot more than sex. I think that recently I'm getting over both of these effects ... about time, I guess!
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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marc
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Needs to get a life! |
Registered: March 2003
Messages: 4729
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Oh my..... I know exactly how you feel there.....
Throughout high school..... As ever has been the way of things, boys are oversexed and they see no problem putting it to any willing hole....
That being the case I had my fill of sex throughout my "formative" years.......
But it wasn't until I was well into my first year of university that I had my first cuddle..... It was warm.... soft.... and wonderful.... I was scared shitless that I would ruin it by making some wrong move or say some wrong word....
And it ended all too soon.... That first cuddle....
We spent 12 years together.... All through university and grad school.... and even a few years after....
He is gone now.... I still miss him dearly.... But over time I came to learn that I must move on with my life....
however, I still think of him, miss him, at those few anniversary times of year....
I am so lucky in that I have found love twice.... and make no mistake, I love Kevin....
Life is great for me... Most of the time... But then I meet people online... Very few are real friends... Many say they are but know nothing of what it means... Some say they are, but are so shallow...
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Teddy wrote:
> I've been thinking about this issue some lately and wondering if I'm giving the bullies, and indeed my dad, too much power. Why not go out and shoot a basket? Why not go out and play like I wanted to be able to do as a kid? What will it hurt if I only make 1 basket in 20 tries? Something to think about.
>
The thing that - finally - started to get me over that was having a nephew. When he was fairly young (aged 5/6) we were at about the same level of incompetence, and I could enjoy playing table-tennis and stuff with him.
He's now 12, and an outstanding sportsman (he's off to the USA after Christmas in a baseball tournament...), while I'm physically no longer capable of any sport. But I do value those few years when I finally learned to enjoy it a bit!
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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Nigel wrote:
> NW, did you ever find out why you were the least favoured of the three siblings?
The things that were natural to me were all things that my father couldn't cope with. And the things my father had taken an interest in as a kid were alien to me.
So:
even as a small infant - before I could walk - I never went to sleep before midnight. and I still don't. "Good" babies go to sleep at 7pm or whenever, or so the books said in the 1950s.
I'm lefthanded - the only one in the family. Teaching a lefthander complex tasks at the limit of the physical co-ordination of a toddler requires a certain degree of empathy on the part of a right-handed parent (rather than swearing because I couldn't learn to tie shoelaces right-handedly!)
I was thought to have poor hand-eye co-ordination (actually, it turns out that this is probably related to having had poor distance vision, which wasn't picked up until I went to Uni), so was shit at sports. The big successes of my fathers life had been as a sportsman.
He wanted a son and heir to carry on the family name, ensure his posterity, etc. I clearly resembled my mothers side of the family more than his - in looks, interests, etc. My younger brother ( who I love dearly and is my best friend as well as brother) takes after my father in both looks and sporting ability.
and so on and so on .....
I have worked hard over the past couple of years to try to understand some of the pressures that led to my father treating me the way he did - that's the only way that I've been able to start to rebuild any kind of relationship after nearly 20 years of not speaking to each other.
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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I am afraid I can't contribute to this thread directly, as I am very lucky never to have experienced rejection. The most I can speak of in the relationship with my parents is a slight old-fashioned English reluctance to talk about emotions or sexuality. My father also works very hard and in my early years the relationship suffered slightly for that -- but I do not think it is at all unusual in this country.
That is one of the key reasons that I took exception to the article Teddy cited: I felt it was insulting my parents and my father in particular.
David
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