roles...

Every little kid in the world had dreams of what and who they want to be. Most of them grew out of it. I never did. I grew up, playing roles in my life to survive. I played roles in my life to cover what I did not wish others to find out. I played roles in my life, that I eventually got good at it and people would believe the stories I made up in an instant. Is it hard to play different roles? No. Is it tiring? Yes.

The problem I have now, mostly are related to playing the roles I used to do or even still do. I played the good son, so my parents would overlook the obvious, my sexuality. I played the queen gay boy at school to avoid interactions with boys I find attractive. I played the student, so I won’t be so out of place with people my age.

The only thing I know about myself is that I am gay. Do I love being gay? Yes. Do I wish I had handled things differently back then? Hell yeah! If I never played the roles, if I just didn’t run away from my problems, I would be able to distinguished role play and real life.

I started playing a role when I realized, to be a failure in my father’s eyes is not tolerated. Corporal punishment is a typical thing in my family for any kind of failure. Children cope differently towards traumatizing childhood. My sister grew up to be a rebel with issues, she chose not to show to the outside world and ended up with her tough and bullying personality exterior. My brother chose to be more less the same. Both my older sister and younger brother dealt with their childhood in similar ways. They may have had terrible grades in school and suffered for it, but they never really had to be someone else. I, on the other hand, had another option. An option I regret taking, playing roles.

My grades were never terrible, in fact it was always one of the best in school. I didn’t want to disappoint my father and definitely did not want to endure the punishment my sister and brother had to. The moment I realized I am gay, I had no one, I could confide in. I thought it was wrong, so I played the role of the good son, all the while I was becoming more and more the prodigal son. And to be honest I don’t know, when will I return or if I will ever return at all.

Seeing how playing a role somehow did solve my problems, however short lived it was, I started playing other roles in other situations until I eventually got stuck in the routine of playing roles, without even realizing it. I am many things, but most of those things aren’t me. I am a brother, a son, a smoker, an alcoholic, gay, a recreational drug user and many more, but those are just attributes every other humans have. But they still can define and describe themselves, as to me, I am completely and utterly lost, when I am asked, who I really am.

This is my way of healing. By writing about myself, I am hoping that eventually I will be able to unravel the mystery of who I really am.