“It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.”

My decision to start blogging partly stemmed from an experience I recently had involving my inability to open up and trust someone. By the time I was ready to open up, it was too late. Someone else was able to do what I couldn't and I missed my chance to possibly grow closer to this person.

I was laying in bed one night upset with myself for not having the ability to be me and I realized that I don't even know me. I could stare at my reflection for hours and not really know the person looking back at me. It's a strange feeling that I don't believe I can fully describe, but I came to the realization that because I don't know me...no one else really has either. My whole life..my parents, my brother, boyfriends, friends... has anyone gotten to really see me for who I am?

Due to my experiences growing up, I think that I have become so afraid to be comfortable in my own skin and it does not have to do with anything physical. I am comfortable with my body...it's about who I am as a human being that I am disconnected from. Our mundane lives get in the way of us having the ability to dig deep inside ourselves...at least in mine. In my own life, I feel like everyone I know has only scratched the surface of who I am. Some have just not wanted to get to know me and I think that's a shame as I pride myself on treating everyone equally and I'm a caring guy. It isn't enough for me to go about what I see as a transparent everyday life. I want to have a deeper connection with a least one other person in my life. Hopefully someday that will be the man I marry. In the meantime, I want to have that connection with myself. Blogging has given me the opportunity to step back and write about my feelings and my experiences, allowing me to understand myself better and to allow others to get to know me on a deeper level.

“It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.” Andre Gide. I found this quote online the other day and I fell in love with it.

The feedback I received from others regarding my last blog was very touching.  I'm not sorry for what happened to me in my youth because it caused me to test my inner strength and it has carried me through. When I take the time and think about what qualities I consider are my strongest, my inner strength, is the one that I always pride myself on. No matter what shit happens to me on a daily basis, I can take it. I don't let fear or sadness take control of me. I will give myself a moment to take in that emotion and let it overpower me but I will force it out as quickly as it came in. I'll never be a pessimist...it is just not in my nature and as much I look back and think about how I had some really fucked up times in my life there is always someone out there who has it a lot worse than I.

There was a time in my life where I resented my parents for making so many wrong choices in life and I was so envious of my friends who had parents that could actually support them through College and beyond. I didn't want everything handed to me, but I wanted some help when I needed it. I don't blame my mom as much as my dad, because many of his choices caused our family problems, but I was so angry at both of them. Now that I am older and mature I look at what they sacrificed just to give my brother and I the little that we could have and I respect them a bit more. Growing up I lived in a one bedroom apartment in Yonkers. My parents didn't have a bedroom, they slept on a mattress in the living room and my brother and I shared a bedroom. First we had bunkbeds and then as we got older that bedroom pretty much was split in half. You could tell which half was mine by the Zack Morris and NKOTB pictures I had on my wall from Teen Beat magazine.  This lifestyle was normal to me and I just assumed living in a house was a major luxury I'd never come to know.

When my mom was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, I was about 10 or 11 and when I reached my teenage years I was embarrased to be seen with her. How selfish was I....right? I just wanted a mom who could walk normally and we didn't get stared at whenever I had to help her walk with her arm around mine. It was a struggle in school and a struggle at home especially by 15 when my Dad left my mom for another woman. It was just me having to take care of her, taking her to rehab, helping her around the house, helping her up when she would fall. One time I had come home from school after a day of mental abuse to find my mom laying on the bathroom floor because she fell and couldn't get back up. By the time I reached 18 I felt guilty for leaving for college, but even more guilty for parts of me not caring. I needed out. The point is despite the mental and physical pain my mom has endured for so long which led to depression at times, she has remained strong. That has to be where I get my inner strength and I hope one day I can carry that inner strength on to a child of my own.