Atonement… becoming one with someone, is a process. I still find myself disciplining my son by the ugly traditions of my father, and his father before him. I do not feel courage attempting to break the cycle; I feel weak. Afraid. I feel anger towards my son sometimes, but it is really anger towards myself, and my father. It is hard to loosen that terrified grip, to submit, and be free.
I would have put “10-year blogging journey” in the title, but that was starting to become clunky, and so I omitted it. But just for your reference, dear readers, I’m picking up where I left off from New Life and the VOX years.
“One must have a faith that the father is merciful, and then a reliance on that mercy.” — Joseph Campbell
I had very mixed feelings about having a boy in my family. Memories of being bullied by boys was too fresh in my mind. Middle-school classmates called me “faggot” and “queer”, and chastised me for discovering I was into hardcore porn. I was deathly afraid for years that the homoerotic aspects of my otherwise heterosexual fantasies would be discovered. It took me a lot just to admit this to Cimmorene, much less to anyone else. I also repressed a lot of memories of my father beating…
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