Relatives and Trust Issues

My grandfather pulled a gun on me. I was six and he pulled it out of the drawer. I could not tell if it were loaded, if the safety was on or anything else. All I saw was a large black gun.

I was smaller so it seemed like what Dirty Harry would use on his job. At an age where Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were real; so was this gun. He did not pull the plunger back.

It would not have surprised me if a relative shot me accidentally. Returning to adults who frequently used the N word- one uncle constantly asked if I were a boy or a girl.

My father teased all the time. It was essentially harassment and a way to express his perceived superiority. Other relatives heard this, assumed I enjoyed it and were rude to a small child in the name of fun.

My mother mentioned people who loved me. The way a Dom might love a Sub. I don't know if there are loving BDSM relationships. They feel like work. The relationships with adults excused me from BDSM and I never have to watch Secretary either.

Fifty Shades of Harassment- why did they muddy the waters? In some ways they guided me. In other ways I was treated like a subordinate. No wonder I never wanted to have children. I'll never know why my father had children. He probably shouldn't have.

With a pulse I have the luxury of saying that. The It's a Wonderful Life scenario of my life would not matter. My father would have been the same narcissist and acted like the world revolved around him. He would have been late for no good reason as if he were Lauryn Hill and I am getting out of this dead end scenario.

If he never had children he would not have had his finest baby. Subsequently I would not have been there to take her at face value and have him hate me for not ignoring someone in the house who was helpless.

The more I nurtured my sister the more helpless adults seemed. She found her way. Others made me a car service and a money lender. That is not what relationships are. At least they shouldn't be one way with me doing the work.

Partnership. I don't know what that is. Back to the question of gender- that adult knew it bothered me so he asked the same stupid question every time we visited the backwoods of Pennsylvania. All those relatives are deceased and what legacy did they leave?

My mother admits she does not miss that Uncle of hers. He was high maintenance. I never have used the title "Uncle" regarding my sister's children. I wanted to be called Majordomo. My sister's husband had no idea what that high end concept was.

Meanwhile, I referred to it with his eight year old son and he said "Butler". Something like that. Take children seriously and you'll be amazed what they know and learn.

Many topics my father closed out with "You're too young to understand." He did not want to have me learn. It's not like I asked where babies came from. He told me and made intercourse sound mechanical and gross.

He did not weave a tale and storytelling is a way to rebel. That and not violently using the F word. There were no bleeps in childhood. When I say relatives used "The N Word"- three different groups used the entire epithet. They did not swear in a fun, musical manner like Richard Pryor.

There was a lot of hostility. That is my foundation. The first chance I had to treat someone differently was when my sister was born. I planned nothing. Things fell into place.

She was an organic baby and every relationship for the rest of my life will be guided by that success. Should I have deceived her? I recall how aggravating it was to have adults question my sexuality before I had one. The time they spend annoying me could have been devoted to support and nurturing. That was how I bided my time.

I was hated for being nice to a baby. You would think I taught a Saudi woman how to drive a car. Sometimes you have to take a stand. In an environment when others are never satisfied and you will never win them over; remain true to yourself.