Give Me a Little Credit, George

"It is true that it is a powerful occurrence to have somebody look you in the eye and say you are worth something."--Donald Miller


"It's also true it's an equally powerful occurrence to have somebody look you in the eye and say they trust you."--Me


Recently I took one for the team and moved back home...to live with my parents.  My parents are great...really...as most parents should be.  They're loving, generous, and moderately supportive.  We haven't had the best track record in terms of cordiality since I became an adult.  


My mom recently learned that the guy I've been spending all my time with is not "just a friend"...and immediately, I became 17 again.  My current relationship is rather reflective of one I had ten years ago.  It was long distance so we would spend alternating weekends at each other's parents' houses.  My parents were always afraid of how it "looked" in the religious circle...like Oh My God they may be having sex.  We weren't--but that wasn't good enough.  Ten years later, I'm in a long distance relationship and occasionally spending weekends at my boyfriend's place... And no one in my religious circle gives a shit whether or not we are having sex.  


I'm not 17...I'm 27, divorced, and starting over. 


I'm taking a road trip to California with the aforementioned boyfriend next month to see the Grand Canyon and one of my best friends in Fresno.  I took the coward route and unleashed my life plans to my mom via e-mail.  No response.  Not a good sign.  


Over the last decade I've gotten in a rather continual habit of lying by omission or straight up fib-telling because I'm tired of defending myself.  I'm tired of explaining.  They tolerate the imminent relocation to Corpus Christi, the church I drive an hour and a half to attend, being pro-LGBT, and even the tattoo...but I doubt they will ever really see me or accept me.  I wonder if they'll always be shaking their heads when I leave the room.  


I wish I didn't care so much, didn't desire their approval...given I'm approaching 30 and still feel like a teenager. 


There's a scene in "Father of the Bride" where Annie sits at the dining room table and tells her parents she's getting married...  Her father freaks out and she looks at him and says, "Give me a little credit, George."...like...really, you didn't raise a complete moron.  


Why do children seem to spend their lifetime convincing their parents they're not total dumb asses?   


So much for fucking bravery.  I returned from Corpus Christi with a 'fuck you' stamped on my forehead, determined to clean house and make a new start for myself.  I did it with confidence...got knocked on my ass...and slowly stood back up.  Not two weeks into living with the creators and I feel the strength slipping from my fingertips.  I return to my compartmentalized life.  Living a lie.  And in a few months, I'll be residing 400 miles away...I wonder if they'll really understand me then...or if I'll always be a stranger.