The final straw pt. 2

The day we got engaged. But, this isn’t the engagement story. This is the day my relationship with my dad was irrevocably broken. I wouldn’t recognize that until I replayed this day and the following conversations over and over and over.

The morning of March 28th, 2020, started out as normally as a Saturday morning, two weeks into COVID quarantine, could. That is to say, Mel waited as long as she could before waking me up to take the dogs on a walk. I think she made it to 7 am.

Her proposal plans were big and wild, and they shrunk each time LA’s mayor told us to “stay in our area”, to “stay in our neighborhood” and finally, to “stay on your street”. Today was the day she decided to ask the question we both knew was coming. Spending our lives together was something we both knew was already happening. Did we need to be engaged to feel secure in that? No. The only shift, for us, was going from girlfriends to fiancés. She asked the question. I gave my answer. It was beautiful and perfectly us. We continued with the dog walk.

We called her parents and they celebrated with us. We called my mom. She congratulated us and expressed her love. Then she went searching for my dad so we could share our news with him. In typical dad fashion, he was working at his computer. I said, “we’re engaged!” He looked at the phone, said “ok” and turned back to continue his work.

That was it. “Ok” is all I got. Two letters. One word.

That was the moment our connection broke. I think it was the moment my dad began to look at me as a stranger instead of his daughter. We had several conversations after the initial shock wore off. He asked me to explain why I made the choice I did. He told me that he loved me, and it was because of that love that he couldn’t support me. He told me that he would rather “sacrifice our current relationship for a potential future relationship.” One that is dependent on either a life after death or the dissolution of my relationship. He told me he was loving me, and I said his love felt like hurt. He told me I was choosing a lesser happiness, and I said he couldn’t know what would make me happiest. I told him that part of loving someone is supporting them, even when you might disagree with their choices.

More words were said. Tears were shed. I think hearts were broken. I know mine was.

March 28th, 2020 was so many things. It was the day I said yes to my best friend and the day I said yes to what I wanted. It was also the day I learned that not everyone is willing to support me in ways that feel supportive. I learned that sometimes, the most important people in my life change. I can’t force them to be any other way. All I can do is recognize that it isn’t my responsibility to convince them to stand by me. All I can do is set boundaries that prioritize my mental and emotional well-being. All I can do is find those people, friends or family, who love me in ways that feel like love.

Some people question the boundaries I’ve set with my dad. Some people wonder if it is my boundaries that have ended the relationship I had with him. Is it my job to set palatable boundaries? Is it on me to make sure that everyone is comfortable with those boundaries? If they are triggering for others, am I supposed to take them back? Or, is that everyone else’s work? I think that my job is to live my life authentically and joyfully. And it is everyone else’s work to figure out whether or not they can be a part of it.