This morning, my dad and I got in the car, and problems happened.
First, it started with a window down. I told him I didn’t want the window down, so I put it back up. He whined.
Turned on Florence + The Machine, as “High As Hope” is a solid album. He called it “garbage.”
I asked him to stop assuming I had copious amounts of free time. I don’t. “Well, why don’t you put it on the calendar?” I’m 37 years old, I shouldn’t need to account for every waking moment of my day.
Then came the bomb. All I called him was a “Republican.”
He called me a “b-tch without a c-nt.”
The day took a solid turn wrong after that. At first, I said “thanks for the compliment.”
But when I got to church, I realized I can’t take this any more. I walked right past him and sat somewhere else. I looked at Jen, I looked at Brent and Renee, I looked up at Martha and Holly. All people who can address me respectfully. I refused his handshake at “The Peace.”
I realized I can’t take any more of this. This would have to be punished, he’ll have to learn actions have consequences.
We come home.
I let it stew some more. I go to my Gender SAFE group, thinking if that’s his attitude toward me, that’s his attitude toward my sisters. Can’t have that.
He laid down for a couple hours after lunch. But when he woke up, instead of tearing into him…
“I thought about what you said earlier, and actions have consequences.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“With that attitude, I don’t want you near my groups ever again. You’re definitely not coming to church with me next week.”
He started pouting.
Tough. I didn’t want to do that. But I maintain I need to be treated with respect, and if his attitude toward strong trans women is “bitch without a c,” he’s going to end up alone.