Tinkerbell

The power of one word is often something that can get lost on parents when you are using words so loudly and so often all day long. This may make you think twice.
Back in 1981 I was a little kid; 8 years old and so impressionable. All of the kids around me were also like that. I was definitely a Momma's boy much to the chagrin of my father. I liked to bake, play with dolls and cried when my dad tried to make me play hockey or act like my older brother. He was frustrated and he didn't know what else to do with his gay kid.
Then came the day. The day that THE word was used on me for the first time. I had to take the school bus and my mom couldn't take me to the bus-stop and my dad had to take us. I got very upset and anxious when my mom couldn't do these things. My dad just didn't understand, I walked slowly and quietly. I remember the crunch of the Autumn snow under my boots. There we so many kids around. playing in the first snow, squealing and having fun. I just wanted my mom to hug me and kiss me when I got on the bus. Then he said it. Then in his words my dad changed my life. "Jesus TINKERBELL, lets move it!" He said that to me. Everyone heard him. On that day that the entire bus, including my brother, cousins, and schoolmates laughed, pointed, teased and even made up songs about me being a "tinkerbell".
My dad doesn't remember thisnow and he apologizes nonetheless. It is something that I will never, ever forget.
I have never called my child a name.
I will always be Tinkerbell. the difference is that now I own it. I am different. Don't get me wrong, my father fucked up huge when I was a kid but I refuse to let a name haunt me forever. When I hear someone say Tinkebell, I smile. Shit, that's growth! this blog may be helpful after all!