Page 58 of Keeping the Score

“When I was a kid, people thought I was a freak.”

Oh no. My heart bumps. I hesitate, then ask gently, “Why?”

“My parents were… different. They believed in following your own path. They were very loving, but also very hands off. As long as I wasn’t hurting anyone, I could do whatever I wanted. But when you’re a kid and you don’t have any boundaries in your life, it can be… scary.”

I nod somberly. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“So I was different from the other kids. My parents didn’t come to parent-teacher conferences or make sure I did my homework. I begged them for rules, like what time I had to go to bed.”

I stifle the noise of distress that rises in my throat.

“But they just embrace spontaneity and following your id.”

“That’s not very… adult,” I venture.

“Yeah. Exactly. They were like children.”

“It’s great to be free,” I say. “But also scary.”

“Yeah. Like, they were fine with it when I didn’t want to go to school. And there werelotsof days I didn’t want to go to school.”

“Why?” The word is almost a whisper.

“Like I said, other kids thought I was a freak. They made fun of me. Bullied me.”

“Oh no. Because of your parents?”

“Yeah. And partly because of how I looked.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“I was tall and skinny and I wore glasses,” he says with a shrug. “My clothes weren’t always the latest styles. Mom liked to shop in thrift stores, even though we could afford new things. She has a unique style.”

Hmm. He must get that from her. I exhale a long breath, working to keep my voice even. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hockey saved me,” he says. “When I discovered I loved hockey it gave me something to pursue. My own path to follow. It gave me a purpose. And there were lots of rules and boundaries. And I loved it.”

“That’s so great.”

“It caused some conflict,” he continues, merging into traffic on another street. “My parents didn’t believe in rules and schedules. So when I had to be at a practice or a game, they waved it off. I got so…” He pauses. “Anxious, I guess. I wasworried that I was like my parents. I saw their loosey-goosey way of life and it bugged me.”

“Oh.” I tilt my head, my chest aching.

“And I didn’t want to be like that,” he continues. “I was afraid I’d get kicked out of hockey. I didn’t want to be some loser who didn’t show up for games or didn’t work hard and let the team down. As I got older, there were consequences for that. It’s a team sport, and you just don’t do that to your teammates. Mom and Dad didn’t get that. So I was always nagging and arguing with them so I could get to the arena.”

“Ohhhh.” Okay. I’m seeing what’s going on here.

“That’s why I took up taekwondo. Self-discipline isn’t something you’re born with; you have to learn it. And like any other skill, if you want to master it you have to practice it.”

He’s kind of… amazing.

“Kids should be allowed to follow their own path,” I say. “But I think parents need to lay the foundation for that. They should have been there for you to make sure you got what you needed to succeed in hockey.” Oops. Maybe that sounded critical of his parents. “Obviously, they did. I’m sure they love you.”

“They do,” he says. “And yeah, over the years they started trying harder. They saw how important it was to me. And how well I was doing. But it made them miserable. They absolutely hated the weekend tournaments out of town. They had nothing in common with the other parents. They wanted to be sitting at home smoking weed or doing shrooms.”

“Oh.” I blink. “So I guess they couldn’t exactly get mad at you when you did that.”

“I have never smoked the devil’s lettuce.”

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