My father taught me a very valuable lesson when I was 15. He taught me the power of the word "no".
My parents separated and divorced when my brothers and I were young. After their separation, I lived with my mother for a few years, then back with my father and brothers for a few years and back again. This went on until that fateful day in 10th grade.
I didn't like my mother using me as her tool to take revenge on my father. Her vengeful actions against my father always involved me somehow. I wanted to rebel against my mother for trying to make me into her identical twin instead of showing me how to be an individual with my own voice and opinions.
I felt trapped. My brothers had refused to communicate with our mother from years earlier. Even though I had other family members, I felt alone. My mother tried to convince me that her opinions about my father should be mine. She'd tell me how I should share her view of the world because it would protect me from danger. She'd force me to eat the same foods she liked and began to share her clothes with me to improve my look. I put up with eating greasy soul food, hearing how terrible men are, and wearing church clothes to school because I thought I had to.
Another way my mother tried to force me to copy her lifestyle was to attend her church. I hated church. My mother attended the most boring church ever. I could never follow along with the lesson. The preacher always spoke with a low monotone voice while the women who sat in front of me with the big hats, hummed and fanned themselves. The only part I ever heard clearly was, "Amen". I never "got it". I tried to do what the other kids did: go to sleep. My mother would always smack me awake and say "pay attention". One day, I asked my mother, "Why do we go to church?" This was an honest question on my part. I had no clue about worship, praying and being thankful. I really didn't understand why did we make the trip to that building every weekend. What does "Amen" mean? What were we listening to? Why didn't the speaker make sense? What was the point?
My mother picked up on my frustration years earlier but she admitted, she didn't care. My mother found my question to be manipulative and deceiving. Did you ever see a light skinned black woman get angry? It's scary. Her light skin blushed over, her full lips tucked in, her voice showing no sign of femininity and her fists balled tight as she placed them on her hips. She leaned in inches from my face and breathed the hot and heavy words, "Because I said so."
On one of my visits to my father's house, I explained to him my anger of having to go to church without the explanation of why do we go there. My father said to me that I didn't have to go if I wasn't getting anything out of it. He looked me in the eye and said "I have a secret to tell you. You're old enough now to express yourself more freely. You can tell your mother no." Of course, I thought he was nuts. How can I do that and survive? She'll kill me! My father said, "You have a mind of your own. Use it. Your mother knows as well as I do, you're not out late at night hanging with friends, drinking and smoking like your brothers did. You've got good grades at school while having a job after school. You don't hang around boys like those other girls I've seen with the tight clothes on. You're a respectable girl and I'm proud of you. You always had the mind of an adult so now you should exercise some of the privileges. If you don't want to go to church, you don't have to. You have the right to say no. You can even tell me no. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But, understand that responsibility comes with that privilege. Whenever you tell someone no, especially someone of authority, you have to deal with the consequences of your action. If you're no going to stand behind your word, don't say it. But I know that you always mean what you say and you won't back down."
My father hugged me, grinned and pushed my mouth closed. I couldn't believe that was true. I can tell anybody no, even my parents? No way! That wasn't in my nature to disrespect my parents.
My father explained how it wasn't disrespectful to say no to someone. He told me that I was a crucial part of the society that we lived in and I couldn't allow myself to not participate. Too many things in this world need to be done and if everyone stopped participating with their own special talent, how will anything get accomplished? It's disrespectful when someone tries to make you do all the work and they don't share the load. It's worst when awards are handed out and the disrespectful person take all the accolades and purposefully hide your accomplishments. Don't disrespect yourself by allowing them to hide your accomplishments. You're not being disrespectful when you are standing up for your rights and what is rightfully yours.
I told my mother, I refused to attend church with her ever again. The fear blinded me. I think I blacked out for 30 seconds but, I was still standing. My mother screamed and waved her arms in every threatening manner known to american man. I'm sure if my mother traveled more, she'd know a few more threatening gestures. My mother blessed my life because she wanted to take it that day. She was finally out of breath and out of words. I saw her give up. I was standing there like a true soldier and waiting for a blade or bullet to enter my body. But, my mother gave up. She calmed down, walked over to me and said, "You know what? If that's your attitude, you can go live with your father! Get out!"
Until that moment, I didn't think I could know joy could be any more blessed than I had already experienced in my life. I tried not to grin while packing my clothes. My mother paced the hallway screaming how much of a terrible child I was and I just needed to take that foolishness to my father.
My life changed for the better that day. I felt like a freed slave. I forgave my mother for everything I didn't like about her as soon as I opened the front door to freedom. I loved her more at that moment. Of course, I didn't tell her that. She was still angry.
My relationship with my mother is 100% better than ever. I talk to her practically everyday now.
LESSON LEARNED:
- I learned to not have people bully me around and use me for their agenda without my permission
- I learned to take responsibility for how I'm feeling and not let other people dictate how I should feel
- I learned such a little word has a really big meaning
- I learned that I don't have to be a coward just because I feel like one
- I learned that I can exercise my right to free speech and thought
- Lastly, I learned that people in authority don't know more than you do. They just seem to
Recent Comments