Good Advice from the Past

I never had the chance to get close to any of my older relatives except my mother's mother. I used to spend time at her house after school, when my parents were busy, sometimes in the summer, and, once I was old enough, working on things around her house.

Later in life, after my grandfather died, she took on a housekeeping style that could best be described as "cluttered." Her kids weren't real big on showing up and seeing their mom's house a mess (and it was, sometimes, a big mess), and they made this very clear to her. This prompted the best piece of accidental advice anyone ever gave me: "It's my house," she declared, "and if they don't like it, they can kiss my ass!" I was scandalized (or pretended to be) by her language, and we had a good laugh about the fact that "old ladies are not allowed to talk like that."

This came back to me recently, hearing a friend mention her discomfort at people commenting on her appearance. I've spent a big chunk of my life taking criticism for my own appearance. I got teased for my hair being too long, then too short, then too long, as well as for being too trendy, and too "gay." I took crap for dressing too "up tight," too casual, too preppy, too hippy, just plain badly, and, again, "gay." (How my hair and clothes could have run off to be gay without me, I don't know. I always thought we trying to get girls together. I guess we were on different pages... must explain my limited dating success in high school and college...)

The high points (or low points) were the Christmas party I went to with a buddy (dressed up, both with longer hair and thin goatees) where everyone thought we were dating, and the other time, after a party, when a girlfriend told me I needed to cut my hair and dress more "preppy," because I scared her friends. (I retaliated by showing up in a tie-dyed heavy metal shirt, red and green plaid shorts, and workboots the next time... I was mature like that.)

All of this came back to me today, thinking about what this friend mentioned, and then I heard my grandma's voice: "It's my house, and if they don't like it, they can kiss my ass."