My dad Eric - aka Tex, Curly, Father circa 76ish when I was about 10.
There are assumptions that could easily be made just by his appearance.
Alcohol. Drugs. Debauchery.
So I don't blame anyone for judging our family. But when I started getting counseling for depression, I was shocked when, upon sharing my father's interests, the next question was always, without exception, whether I'd been sexually abused.
And when I'd tell them I hadn't ever been abused in any way by anyone, they would purse their lips, insinuating denial.
The professionals weren't helpful so I became my own therapist.
Judgement has been by far the biggest challenge in my life. Both externally and internally. But as soon as I started accepting my self and all my perceived flaws, others perceptions of me ceased to matter.
So when I look at this photo, I remember playing pool with my Grandad and Mum at the clubrooms on Molesworth St, the barbecues, the practical jokes and the laughter but most importantly, the visceral sense, that I have to this day, of being protected...
Pimp My Attitude
You need to know, right now, this is all about me. I'm not educated. I don't have any (non-driving related) qualifications therefore, I'm not about to tell you what you should do - I know my place.
And here you are.
At my place.
So - welcome.
If you're here for 10 seconds, I won't even know so I won't be offended that you left early.
If you're here for hours and keep coming back, I will consider you a friend because the only thing my diverse yet loyal friends have in common, and what I appreciate most about them, is that they just keep coming back..