Tuesday, January 6, 2009

The Consequences of Saying Yes, in Hindsight (Opening Doors, Crossing Bridges...)







I always look forward to the "Readers Write" section published in The Sun magazine. Submissions of personal, nonfiction writings are submitted by readers based on a given topic such as Yes, Anger, Narrow Escapes, to name only a few--with a wide girth to avoid subject matter restriction. In the January 2009 issue the topic is Saying Yes, and the writings are fascinating, thought provoking, and at times gut wrenching, which make me think of the times in my life when I said yes whereby the consequences had a significant effect on my life, which is pretty much what readers write about. When I was 22, I met a man in a bar who invited me to go home with him. I remember being very attracted to him and sensing something unique and wonderful beneath his somewhat nerdy/intellectual appearance--glasses, short stature, longish dark hair, big brown eyes, thick brows and long lashes, Mediterranean skin. Yummy!! It was 1974. It was agreed that I was to follow behind him in my car, so we left the bar in the wee hours that night after a fun evening of dancing and small talk, with me following in my car. My gas tank registered empty. Totally empty. At the time I was a student at UT living on a very tight budget. I grew nervous and apprehensive, fearing I would run out of gas. I decided that as soon as I found a gas station that was opened I would pull over, flash my lights, and hope he would figure out what I was doing. There were no open gas stations anywhere, and he just kept driving and driving, further and further away from familiar neighborhoods. I just knew I was going to run out of gas, my heart started pounding, my mind racing, it was very late, no other cars in sight, everything was closed. And, after all, this guy was a total stranger, and he seemed to live pretty darn far away in a relatively remote and scarcely populated area I was totally unfamiliar with. I pulled my car off to the side of the road and stopped, thinking that the only logical and reasonable thing to do would be to turn around, call it a night, and hopefully make it back to my apartment without running out of gas, but if I did it would be okay walking the remaining distance home. His tail lights grew dim as he kept driving, maybe not noticing I had stopped, or maybe deciding that he was going home with or without the company of this stranger in tow. I began to navigate a u-turn and head back towards familiar geography and my apartment. But something inside stopped me and said Yes, keep following him, take the risk, just do it. So I did and miraculously I didn't run out of gas. That was 34 years ago and I am so glad I said yes to his invitation, and yes to my intuition to keep on driving despite the odds.




In the ensuing months one of my best friends tried to talk me out of this blossoming relationship, but instead I listened to my heart that said Yes, this is a good relationship. I went home that summer to work for my step-father and my new love went abroad on a pre-planned vacation. He wrote me a much anticipated letter which my mother confiscated and read. I never saw the letter but knew he had sent it, and I began to suspect my mother had it, but she denied it for many years. Suddenly she seemed to turn against me, and made it clear I was no longer welcomed. What the hell was going on? In his letter to me, l learned later on, he declared his love for me and proposed that we move in together. My mother grew more hostile towards me, and finally asked me to leave the house, that there was no longer any place for me within my own family. I was totally devasted, as are many young people whose families reject them outright and toss them out (I was 22 and an adult, but I was still in college and they were providing much needed assistance just as they had promised they would). I had vacated my $45 a month apartment, given notice, but still had a few days left. I drove back to Austin and slept on a bare mattress and cried and wept for days.


In the end, my partner and I moved in together and are still happily together. A few years later after reading The Front Runner, my mother became a great friend to the gay community and one of my best friends, and remained that way until her death in 1996.


Sometimes in the split second of a situation where we are called upon to make an immediate decision, the only thing we can do is try to listen to the answer that we feel coming from our deepest gut and go with it. Usually, it's in our best interest, and can sometimes have an effect on our life in a most profound way. (Of course our gut can say No, in which case the outcome is usually, but not always, a mystery. And mysteries are part of the magic of life.)
Photos: Door, hilltop village, Provence; Bridge, painted many times (from below) by Cezanne, Provence; Dale and Ron long ago in Mexico

2 comments:

Anne-Marie Schultz said...

I have a very intense love hate relationship with Sun Magazine. I love it because it is from Chapel Hill, the place I most consider home, at least until Austin. I love that it exists and I love the feeling and the writing it contains. I hate it because I cannot read it without crying from the depth of my soul and more often than not it leaves me feeling too sad, just too sad.

Anyway, your post reminded of one of my favorite quotes.



From Dennis Covinngton's Salvation on Sand Mountain.

“there are moments when you stand on the brink of a new experience and understand that you have no choice about it. Either you walk into the experience or you turn away from it, but you know that no matter what you choose, you will have altered your life in a permanent way. Either way, there will be consequences.”

that's life.

ron d hicks said...

Anne, thanks for sharing the quote--it certainly resonates with truth
for me and my experiences. Your writings (blogs, comments, quotes, etc.) have been a much needed stimulus package for my sinking personal economy (terrible analogy but it made me chuckle and is true!).

hugs, ron