Doesn’t Think Highly Of Your Hobbies

, , , , , | Related | September 24, 2018

(I am sixteen. This is when marijuana is not yet legal in California. My stepdad, who is only a few years older than me, has been bullying me for his entertainment. The latest topic is my choice of hobbies; art is for children, videogames are evil, Dungeons & Dragons is for satanic losers, and Pokemon is for the, well, an ableist slur I’d rather not repeat, and so on. I bring up my complaints about this chronic harassment to my mother.)

Mom: *smoking a cigarette indoors, despite my severe asthma* “Well, it sounds to me like you need to get more mature hobbies.”

Me: *not surprised, just irritated* “First, how is that fair? He collects baseball cards, and I collect Pokemon cards. It’s basically the same thing! And second, more mature hobbies, like what?”

Mom: *snaps* “GROW THE F*** UP AND FIGURE IT OUT!”

(I am not exactly friends with good people, but my friends are better than blood. They and their parents help me get ahold of “mature” hobbies, with the plan to use it just for show. After spending a week away without notice, I return home to my mother with a very full backpack.)

Mom: *notices the dog acting weird about my backpack* “What’s in that?”

Me: *flops some very raunchy magazines out of the backpack, followed by a suspicious bag of green-brown herb balls and some unmarked pills* “You said you wanted me to grow up and get mature hobbies. So, now, I’m going to go find out what that woman can do with that horse while I’m getting stoned, because that’s what adults do. If I get bored of that, I’m going to raid your liquor cabinet. Is that ‘mature’ enough of a hobby for you? I can’t get my grades any ‘higher’ so I might as well get ‘high,’ too!”

(The cigarette falls out of my mom’s mouth. For once, she is silent. We stare at each other for what feels like several minutes before I repack my backpack and take it to my room and put a chair in front of my door. I toss the backpack out the window, where my friend is waiting, and she sneaks away so I can’t get caught having possession of it. I spend the afternoon playing video games until my mom knocks on my door, instead of just barging in like usual.)

Mom: “Uh, so, uh… You can play video games and stuff all you want. I’ll tell your stepdad to leave you alone.”

(Tragically, he didn’t leave me alone. But at least they stopped trying to force me to stop enjoying my own hobbies after that. I didn’t ever end up using any kind of illegal drugs.)

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