A Kind Of Life
I sometimes wonder how other people see me. I don’t worry about their approval or disapproval, but what they see when they look at me.
Full disclosure. I’m an only child and a well-adjusted gay man in my 50s. I don’t have any children, and don’t want any. I’ve been in a wonderful relationship for more than 21 years that shows no signs of ending.
Recently, my cousin died from COVID-19. Because of the pandemic I wasn’t able to go to the funeral. Apparently I was mentioned, according to my sources, and some less than flattering things were said about me. The words don’t hurt me, but I have to wonder how my relatives and others really see me.
Notice I didn’t say how I am, but how I’m perceived by others. In the grand scheme of things, other peoples’ opinions don’t matter. If there’s a comparison or a contest, I have no clue how to evaluate my life against anyone else’s.
There are relatives approximately the same age as me who make more money, but there are those who make less. Some of them have long and happy marriages just like my long and happy relationship with Hal, others have had multiple marriages and divorces I count myself on the winning side for that argument. Most have children, I do not. I feel fortunate bit because I hate children, but because not having children has made me the person I am today.
I can’t feel bad because of how others see me. Life is too important to spend it chasing someone else’s dreams. The fact that nine of this even occurred to me until I am 57 years young is a testament to believing in myself and not worrying about how others see me or my life.
It is ironic that death makes some people care about life. It is tragic when they focus on other people’s lives rather than their own.