As I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve never been as lost and out of direction as I feel right now. One of the factor’s that has contributed to that situation is that lately, I’ve felt that I am my family’s black sheep. Being more explicit about this, it is because of events that have happened not so long ago that I feel the way I feel and because of one in particular, I totally lost respect from my parents in a big way, in the end, it was a big blow, but luckily I’ve been able to recover from my ashes and move forward.
So, when it comes to my family tree, as a Dominican, is a bit complex to explain since last names and origins can easily mix up between each other. When it comes to both sides of my family, maternal and paternal, my grassroots of both of my grandparents are from the Northern region of the country, known in Spanish as Cibao. Like I would joke with any fellow Dominican, in our plain coloquial terms: “Mi sangre da 100% Cibaeña!” (*insert laughing emoji here*).
In the map below, just to give y’all some reference, where you see cities such as Santiago & Puerto Plata, that’s part of the Northern Region and where my closest ancestors come from. My maternal side comes manily from San Francisco de Macorís (Northeast) while my paternal side hails from Santiago de los Caballeros (Central North). Basically, my grassroots hail from the big, fertile North of the country.
Nowadays, when me or you go ahead and visit anywhere in that region, you’ll find tons of beautiful places, warm people, ridiculously good tasting dishes and tons of plantations and business. The North is known for it’s great areas for agricultural development, since it is the Dominican Republic’s most productive land, when it comes to the harvest of anything food related.
After this geography mixed with genealogy lesson about both my country and my family, I’ll try to explain in the best way possible why I feel the way I feel about being the black sheep. As you may or may not know, the Dominican Republic is an extremely religious country, where almost 80% of it’s population states that they follow the Roman Catholic Church.
For me, as a somewhat openly gay male, this is NOT a good sign. As my dad was born over there, the religious beliefs are really strong whithin him, my grandma and fellow relatives from the paternal side, like literally. I remember hearing my grandma tell me in my face, that if she ever learns that one of ther relatives is gay, lesbian or trans she would no longer like to hear from that person and that someone will be automatically dead to her. And she has said that multiple times, in front of me and other relatives. If I’m correct the younguest I was when she came with those kind of comments was like about 8-9 years old. Insane. My maternal side however, is much more flexible and open to me being gay.
Attempting to be my true self in the paradisiac Dominican Republic may be hell, when I state hell, I truly mean it. Sadly for me, as my family has always seen me behave more affeminate than most boys my age, my family HAS ALWAYS talked about me either being or possibly being gay. That’s why I have always felt as the black sheep of the family.
My parent’s have largely contributed to me feeling this way, they’ve made the BIG mistake of always comparing me and any of my achievements to anything accomplished or done by any of my fellow cousins (Btw, sorry for making so much statments on bold, I’m just giving this article certain emphasis). Also, some of my actions have not contributed much to the cause, for example, and this is probably the biggest one (and actually the one I described at the beginning of this post):
At 19, I deliberately asked a friend from high school, who happens to be a bit younger than me and also gay too, to stop by my house so he can get something I wanted to get rid of. That crazy Saturday couldn’t have been worst for me: I left university early because my teacher dismissed us early, my dad happened to be home. So me not giving any f**ks at all, I start acting weird as hell with my friend and we flirt and did some stuff that according to my dad was not “normal” behavior between 2 males.
I won’t get into many details because out of respect to the parties involved, and I pretty much explained in the best way possible what happened that day. As of today, that event has marked me a lot. Not only did I lost much respect from both of my parents, but I cemented that idea: being the family’s black sheep.
After those events, so far, 2 of my cousins from the maternal side do know for a fact that I’m their little sweet gay cousin, while from my much more conservative paternal side, no one but my dad knows my truth. My dad was much more evasive about the issue than my mom, who ended up being more open and even suggested psychological aid after the events I just described. However, both still think that I’m going through a phase, when I’m pretty sure I am not. I’m 100% convinced that I’m much more attracted in a mental and physical level to men than women.
In the end, do I regret doing what I did? Hell NO! However I still want to find closure and be in better terms with that guy as I still feel pretty bad about having him in the middle of my rushed, teenage angst towards my family. It’s been over 2 years, and as of today, he no longer wants to talk to me and everysingle invite I’ve made to him so we can discuss this in person, has been in vain, as all efforts have been always declined and for now, will always be.
In the end, I might the black sheep, but I have NO regrets on what I’ve done so far. I must stay strong and move forward. It’s all I have.