Irony is not lost on me. I see it everywhere, and its value.


I grew up with a father mostly absent. Most of my childhood I spent first trying to find his acceptance, and even better yet, he was looking for mine. In adulthood, I lost the need to confirm what or why it didn't work out in both our favors. For him, I am sure, it was a series of failures he couldn't undo, unfortunately hitting them over and over. For me, it was a series of bumps I was able to understand early, course correct, and adjust.

My partner lost his father at a very young age. His memories are limited to age 6 or 7, barely even visible in his 40 something year old history. He spent most of his life overcoming the early loss, trying to solidify the role departed. He limits his conversations with me, not to hide the history, but because there is none. The parallels of a father lost, and a father gone are staggering. They are reasons for our own connection... our own independence, the singularity of our confidence, and the growth of our strength.

There is always conversation about how one grows up being gay, or even maybe in your opinion, grows into it. The strong mother figure maybe, the absentee father possibly, the habitat or surroundings, all can be of course unfounded based in any kinda of science or reasoning. I dated a guy once who had 7 brothers, all gay.... his mother clearly served too much homemade pink lemonade. Of course, nothing she did nothing to cause that army of gays, but she did single handily employee a Gap in your local mall. This cant be about how or why we end up gay, but to look inside two separate gay male lives, and how they found each other working so well together.

What is harder? Growing up with a father who couldn't be present or a father who couldn't be.. uh... present? While my father was no where near in the state of his ... there are so many similar developments in both our upbringing. You might think that I wish to say death and distant are the same in weight, to which of course they are not, but to think they don't live in the same realm of emotional turmoil would be foolish. One major difference is one is chosen for us, while one we choose for ourselves. Its the lack there of, no matter the ...well....state.


In and out of my life , I grew an armor, ready to protect myself from pain not only a parent could bring, but a male figure would be able to dish out. The shield of protection, never allowing a man to get anywhere close again to causing so much damage. While he would weave in and out, there was a constant lack of role in my life. There was absolutely anger and frustration on my end, and I am sure on his. Without his capacity , I was leery of men. If the first male role in your life cant be counted on ... which one will? It gave me a powerful dose of Independence. It also helped to see a single parent fight hard for everything. It's a "two pump jump " into becoming a powerhouse and needing no one to prop you up. Take off the victim banner, and he helped me. Forced me to grow up faster, but made me tougher when I got there.

He lost his dad so young that he too was forced to grow up faster. If there is no father figure around, who will be? Of course the answer is he would slide into that role.. becoming the decision,  responsibility and money maker. If I was leery, he didn't know who to be leery of. If I was protecting myself, he did know who to hide from. The connecting strings are we had to be sure of ourselves and only ourselves. In companionship, we are merged into one household, one path, one goal, one love ( gag right? ) but there are guardrails. We don't loose ourselves in the stars, even though being with each other is heaven.

I am only now able to write down these parallels in what I can now see in our two stories. My father passed away last year, and in this departure, I can now see the other side of this line running next to me. I hold no joy in his death, but it has given me more than you might know. My love affair changed , and while I will never fully understand the past, it has cleared some clouds from the future.

The paternal string pulls nearly all of the threads. Think about your father, his nature. Did he set the tone for your home? Was his absence the biggest hurtle? Did your mother become someone else in his presence, or lack of? Was he the iron gate you could never seem to open? He was he kind, gentle and giving? No two histories can be measured, but I guarantee you, its a pound or two.

Two different childhoods with two missing father figures, two very similar egos. How we grow up , with what parents we are given, can only be edited in the future. Look over at the car next to you, their story is more like yours than you think.