The
first game I remember playing in my life was ‘Hunt the Thimble’. My mother
introduced me to it when I was, I suppose, about three. The thimble had
originally belonged to my great-grandmother, and was made of silver worn almost
paper-thin by generations of use. To me it seemed the most wonderous,
brilliantly-shining object I had ever seen.
first game I remember playing in my life was ‘Hunt the Thimble’. My mother
introduced me to it when I was, I suppose, about three. The thimble had
originally belonged to my great-grandmother, and was made of silver worn almost
paper-thin by generations of use. To me it seemed the most wonderous,
brilliantly-shining object I had ever seen.
I
loved it, and was consequently brought to tears when Mum told me she had hidden
it and I had to find it. The glorious object was gone; the responsibility of
having to find it too great. No doubt puzzled at my reaction, she set about
joining me in the supposed search, and in no time we found it. We did it a
second time, together, after which I had grasped the concept. I willingly
covered my eyes for the third time of hiding, and said something like, No!
Me! when my mother made to join me in the search. I was into it now. The
game was on.
loved it, and was consequently brought to tears when Mum told me she had hidden
it and I had to find it. The glorious object was gone; the responsibility of
having to find it too great. No doubt puzzled at my reaction, she set about
joining me in the supposed search, and in no time we found it. We did it a
second time, together, after which I had grasped the concept. I willingly
covered my eyes for the third time of hiding, and said something like, No!
Me! when my mother made to join me in the search. I was into it now. The
game was on.
We
played that game endlessly, until I was in fact much too old for it – 25 or 26.
No, no, just joking, more like 5 or 6, but still an age by which I probably
should have outgrown it. Looking back, I rather think I had but my mother had
not.
played that game endlessly, until I was in fact much too old for it – 25 or 26.
No, no, just joking, more like 5 or 6, but still an age by which I probably
should have outgrown it. Looking back, I rather think I had but my mother had
not.
After
a couple of days of my being the lone seeker, she suggested I hide it
for her to find. Ooh, fun! Thereafter we alternated hider and seeker,
she being every bit as thrilled as I to hunt for and eventually find the
gleaming beauty.
a couple of days of my being the lone seeker, she suggested I hide it
for her to find. Ooh, fun! Thereafter we alternated hider and seeker,
she being every bit as thrilled as I to hunt for and eventually find the
gleaming beauty.
She
loved either role, exhibiting as much excitement when I neared the hiding place
as if I was approaching the end of the rainbow with its proverbial pot of gold.
We both played our own games within the game. Sometimes, the hiding place was
too easy. Almost immediately I started the hunt, I caught the gleam of
highly-polished silver from behind Mom’s tea cup. I feigned blindness and faked
a continued search for some time, so as not to curtail my mother’s pleasure.
Once or twice, my search went on too long, the hiding place too clever, and I
became irritated. Then Mum would say she had forgotten where she put it and
would join me in the search, and it was fun again.
loved either role, exhibiting as much excitement when I neared the hiding place
as if I was approaching the end of the rainbow with its proverbial pot of gold.
We both played our own games within the game. Sometimes, the hiding place was
too easy. Almost immediately I started the hunt, I caught the gleam of
highly-polished silver from behind Mom’s tea cup. I feigned blindness and faked
a continued search for some time, so as not to curtail my mother’s pleasure.
Once or twice, my search went on too long, the hiding place too clever, and I
became irritated. Then Mum would say she had forgotten where she put it and
would join me in the search, and it was fun again.
I
grew tired of ‘Hunt the Thimble’. We, just the two of us, had played it too
often for too long. But Mum so enjoyed it. How could I disappoint her? It was a
small price to pay. I continued to play; to fake the challenge of the hunt and
the thrill of discovery.
grew tired of ‘Hunt the Thimble’. We, just the two of us, had played it too
often for too long. But Mum so enjoyed it. How could I disappoint her? It was a
small price to pay. I continued to play; to fake the challenge of the hunt and
the thrill of discovery.
And
so, with this innocent toddler game, began two things. It was the start of the
strangely reversed role I had, for the rest of my life, with my mother. I took
care of her needs, rather than the reverse. Even as a child I read to her, I
let her win at card games, I made her tea, I tucked her up in bed. I was the
parent; she the child.
so, with this innocent toddler game, began two things. It was the start of the
strangely reversed role I had, for the rest of my life, with my mother. I took
care of her needs, rather than the reverse. Even as a child I read to her, I
let her win at card games, I made her tea, I tucked her up in bed. I was the
parent; she the child.
Another
pattern began with ‘Hunt the Thimble’.
As I outgrew the game ahead of my mother, I began my acting career. I
pretended emotions I did not feel, desires I did not have, and continued to do
that extremely well for the next 40-odd years of my life. That innocent bit of
‘pretend’ in a childhood game grew into an ability to fake a completely
artificial heterosexual identity for decades. Such mighty oaks from tiny acorns
grow. The reversed roles shared by my mother and me were never to be corrected.
They were too deeply entrenched. But at least I eventually managed to retire
from acting to live, finally, happily, as the person I was born to be.
pattern began with ‘Hunt the Thimble’.
As I outgrew the game ahead of my mother, I began my acting career. I
pretended emotions I did not feel, desires I did not have, and continued to do
that extremely well for the next 40-odd years of my life. That innocent bit of
‘pretend’ in a childhood game grew into an ability to fake a completely
artificial heterosexual identity for decades. Such mighty oaks from tiny acorns
grow. The reversed roles shared by my mother and me were never to be corrected.
They were too deeply entrenched. But at least I eventually managed to retire
from acting to live, finally, happily, as the person I was born to be.
© September 2016
About
the Author
the Author
I was born and
raised in England. After graduation from college there, I moved to the U.S.
and, having discovered Colorado, never left. I have lived in the Denver-Boulder
area since 1965, working for 30-years at IBM. I married, raised four
stepchildren, then got divorced after finally, in my forties, accepting myself
as a lesbian. I have been with my wonderful partner Betsy for thirty-years.
We have been married since 2013.
raised in England. After graduation from college there, I moved to the U.S.
and, having discovered Colorado, never left. I have lived in the Denver-Boulder
area since 1965, working for 30-years at IBM. I married, raised four
stepchildren, then got divorced after finally, in my forties, accepting myself
as a lesbian. I have been with my wonderful partner Betsy for thirty-years.
We have been married since 2013.
