was no longer living with us,
Borse Prada Prezzi, not being allowed into the house on Christmas Eve because of some argument he’d had with my father. I loved my brother and wanted him to be with us that night, but my father stopped him on the front porch and barred him from entering the home. My mother was devastated (it was her son from a previous marriage), and I was simply mystified. How could we not love or want my brother on Christmas Eve simply because of an argument?
What kind of disagreement could be so bad that it would be allowed to ruin Christmas, when even wars were suspended for a 24-hour truce? This, my little seven-year-old heart begged to know.
As I grew older, I learned that it was not just anger that stopped the love from flowing, but also fear. This was why we oughtn’t talk to strangers—but not just when we were defense-less children. Also when we were adults. I learned that it was just not okay to openly and eagerly meet and greet strangers, and that there was a certain etiquette to be followed with peo-ple to whom you’ve just been introduced—none of which made sense to me. I wanted to know everything about that new person and I wanted them to know everything about me! But no. The rules said we had to wait.
And now, in my adult life,
Borse Prada 2011, when ######uality enters into it, I’ve learned that the rules are even more rigid and limiting. And I still don’t get it.
I find that I just want to love and be loved—that I just want to love everyone in whatever way feels natural to me, in what-ever way feels good. Yet society has its rules and regulations about all this—and so rigid are they that even if the other person who is involved agrees to an experience, if society doesn’t agree, those two lovers are called “wrong,” and are thus doomed.
What is that? What is that all about?
Well, you’ve said it yourself. Fear.
It’s all about fear.
Yes, but are these fears justified? Aren’t these restrictions and constrictio