The Dreamer's Psyche

Reality has this tendency to slap you in the face sometimes when you least expect it- especially when you’ve been dreaming for a lifetime and the very thought of opening those eyes to a new nitemare is just one more thing you have to live up to in the morning. My dream was in fact a nitemare until my 18th birthday. Who ever knew my parents would finally accept my lifestyle 18 years after the fact, I sure didn’t- it was a definite surprise. And now, to have my world turn upside down all over again- that’s just bizarre.

~*..*~

Two weeks before my eighteenth birthday I decided to come out to my parents. They needed to know, I thought, so I threw it out over a dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes on a Thursday nite while passing the asparagus to my little brother, Zachary. Suffice it to say, it didn’t go over quite well. My eighteenth flew over without a bang- my grandparents were forbidden to call and I might as well have been Rapunzel trapped in the Deveraux towers because I sure wasn’t getting out of that house. For a few months my parents treated me as though I were a leper in some third world country- feeding me dinners through my bedroom door and only conversing through the intercoms that connected our rooms. It was a disease they thought, and shunning the infected was the only medication. Finally, they came around though. In fact, they did a complete 360.

~*..*~

Six months after our meatloaf and mashed potatoes conversation mom and dad sat me down to ham and cheese sandwiches on a Saturday afternoon. It was the first time they’d spoken to me in months and now, over pig carcass and decaying dairy product they were about to bridge the gap. I was oblivious.

We stood around the island that encircled our kitchen in a triangle- I in the middle, mom and dad on either side, ready to strike I assumed. I just stood there, motionless, staring down at this diagonally cut ham sandwich in front of me, wondering how much my parents really just didn’t know me at all. I had become a vegan on my 16th birthday and yet, she still insisted on these intricacies of a meat eaters life- the meatloaf, the ham, hell, even her chili always had to have hamburger in it. I had just accepted the fact that she would never understand anything about me- and moved on. Yet I still stared down at this sandwich in disgust. It was just another symbol of her non-acceptance of everything that was me, everything that was Jacqueline. And then, to my surprise, she spoke.

“Jackie, honey,” her voice grated my ears. It was that Boston accent everyone Loves on young twenty-somethings but on a mother, especially mine, it was just grating. “We want you to know something.” Her a’s were just so annoying. All I could do was just hope and pray I never spoke like that, and began to think about how I sounded when I spoke aloud as opposed to in my head. “Jackie!” I looked up from the sandwich now and stopped daydreaming about how I feared turning into my mother, more turning into her voice and I see Renee standing next to her. My eyes widened and my heart started to beat at a pace faster than when running the relay during Track and Field. My palms began to sweat and my cheeks reddened at the sight. What was going on, I thought. Mom’s going to kill her. She’s brought her in this kitchen to massacre the very woman that I Love right in front of my face just to show me how much she hates me. How she can’t accept me. She’s going to take the meat cleaver Zach hit me in the head with when he was 2 on accident and she’s going to attack her and splatter me with her blood.

“Jacqueline sweetie, your mother invited me over to see you this afternoon honey,” Renee’s voice soothed me, yet, I didn’t hear her words. I only saw her mouth move as murderous thoughts and tainted rescues crowded my mind. “Baby, calm down.” Renee stepped toward me and placed her hand on my shoulder and proceeded to litely kiss my cheek. “I know this is a lot for you sweetheart, but, your parents have accepted us. Do you remember, we dreamed of this day to come, and now it has. Sweetie, are you hearing me?” I heard her words this time, but her face was in a mist. I was so confused I couldn’t find my way out. What? My parents have accepted us? What is that? When did this happen? Where was I?

~*..*~

Eventually I calmed down, and once again, moved on. Mom and dad fell in Love with Renee much like I once thought I had. They invited her to dinners of lemon pepper chicken and salmon a la some other meat bi-product when I wasn’t even home or in the mood for dinner. They bought her Christmas and birthday and even Valentine’s Day gifts. They were crossing boundaries that our relationship had yet to even come to.

Then I moved away. I went to college while Renee finished high school. Our letters began to dwindle and eventually, we decided we weren’t the soul mates we once thought ourselves to be. And then, I met a guy.

~*..*~

This is where I am today. I am walking toward my parents house in the hopes of yet another acceptance speech in lieu of a few over zealously cooked meat dishes. I am walking hand in hand with the father of the child I carry inside of me, and hoping that those parents of mine, the leaders of the GLBT in little old Marion and the very minds behind the Miss Gay IWU, can now accept the lifestyle they once wanted to force me into. I can already feel the irony seeping into my skin as the new nitemare unfolds itself on my imaginary dream world.