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amulTalking online to Lacuna Diving Bunny about her plans for Christmas gifts. She wants to knit a bunch of hats for everybody.
I'm really sensitive about gifts. There are very few Hindu holidays where men receive gifts, though perhaps it is merely that the community I grew up in wasn't big on them. For the most part, all I ever got were checks, which my parents deposited straight into my college fund. In other words, to the mind of an adolescent Amul, I got a card with a slip of paper in it that I only ever saw the one time.
The few times I received an actual physical object from a member of my parent's social circle, it was usually a wool knit sweater. If I liked the sweater, then it would get absorbed into my wardrobe quickly, and I'd wear it whenever I felt like it. If I didn't like it, then I would never put it on except when my parents knew that I was going to run into whoever gave me the gift. Then there'd be a long argument, and my choice was to either stay at home and miss the party or fund raiser or whatever, or be forced to go to it while feeling like a fool in an idiot sweater. The other kids could always tell when it was a gift sweater.
Because of this, I have this unreasonable anxiety the first time I see someone wearing/using a gift that I gave them. If they're wearing it in front of me, I assume it must mean that they secretly hate it and just won't tell me.
LDB tells me that the gift of a sweater is a well-documented sea of turbulent waters.
There's another thing that my family frequently does that makes me very tetchy about gifts. If I ask for something, or mention that I need something, then my parents will say they'll get it for me as whatever present they feel they owe me next. When I moved into my current apartment six years ago (in October), my parents told me they were going to get me a "really nice" vacuum cleaner for Christmas. So, I didn't buy one. Come Febuary, my parents were refering to the vacuum cleaner as my birthday present. Two years later, I still didn't have a vacuum cleaner. I finally asked my father if I should just buy a vacuum cleaner or if they still wanted to give me one as a present. Dad told me to go buy one for myself and he'd pay me back. This did not make me feel particularly loved, especially as my apartment grew more and more dirty. I finally did buy myself a vacuum, but I'd completely fallen out of the habit of using the thing by then, and now it is back on the list of home maintanence issues that I struggle with.
This sort of thing happened all the time, growing up. It infuriates me. I have all kinds of long-winded theories about what makes a gift and what does not, what the essential elements of gift-giving are, because of this. The time spent shopping for them, the consideration of what I like and don't like, and whether or not they make the effort to actually give the gift on time: these are all essential elements to the formula to determine how cherished I will feel when given the gift, and how much I will treasure the gift given.
I like to give gifts a lot, though it is now rare that I'm willing to expose myself that much to a friend or casual lover. In this, as in so many ways, I need to feel like the relationship is secure and that their commitment to stay in my life is unwavering before I'm willing to risk more rejection. The effort I put into them is just too great, and so on top of the time and energy put into trying to express "I think I know who you are," or "I want to share with you something I love" in the form of a material-object-exchange, also comes the fear of being seen as narcissistic. After all, the reaction the gift gets is so important to me that I worry I might be seen as only giving a gift because I want the affection, the appreciation.
LDB's handmade treasures are something of a mixed blessing for me, then. While I love the effort and thought she puts into them, thus far most of them have been more complicated than she estimated, and the gifts are given late. I completely adore that she's using the desire to give me a gift to push her own envelope, to explore her own creative energies, but my childhood gift-related baggage makes me really unhappy if they arrive late, and since they're explorations for her, they might be somehow ill-suited for me in one way or another.
She gave me a pair of socks last winter that are just a bit snug around the ankles when I try to put them on, and it really fucks me up every time I open the sock drawer: the choice to put on something easy and quick or to struggle into this love she expressed to me. She's knitted me two or three pairs of arm warmers, and I get into knots every time I see them, because I can never quite make them work with my outfits. She knitted me a ski mask that I completely adore, but takes very specific weather to wear.
All these thoughts were going through my head today, as she sent me various links to hats she might knit for this family member or the other. I started to get really worked up over all of it. I don't want something that I can only wear part of the year, or might not fit. But how can I tell her that? How can I tell her what to knit or not knit? But doesn't she deserve to know? Wouldn't she prefer to make me something I'll really like?
Finally, I worked up the courage to tell her not to knit me a hat. "You mentioned that before," she replied easily. "I was thinking about doing this instead, but am worried you wouldn't like it. Reassurance and input, please?"
Maybe, in the end, it's the reassurance and input that we're all needing.
I'm really sensitive about gifts. There are very few Hindu holidays where men receive gifts, though perhaps it is merely that the community I grew up in wasn't big on them. For the most part, all I ever got were checks, which my parents deposited straight into my college fund. In other words, to the mind of an adolescent Amul, I got a card with a slip of paper in it that I only ever saw the one time.
The few times I received an actual physical object from a member of my parent's social circle, it was usually a wool knit sweater. If I liked the sweater, then it would get absorbed into my wardrobe quickly, and I'd wear it whenever I felt like it. If I didn't like it, then I would never put it on except when my parents knew that I was going to run into whoever gave me the gift. Then there'd be a long argument, and my choice was to either stay at home and miss the party or fund raiser or whatever, or be forced to go to it while feeling like a fool in an idiot sweater. The other kids could always tell when it was a gift sweater.
Because of this, I have this unreasonable anxiety the first time I see someone wearing/using a gift that I gave them. If they're wearing it in front of me, I assume it must mean that they secretly hate it and just won't tell me.
LDB tells me that the gift of a sweater is a well-documented sea of turbulent waters.
There's another thing that my family frequently does that makes me very tetchy about gifts. If I ask for something, or mention that I need something, then my parents will say they'll get it for me as whatever present they feel they owe me next. When I moved into my current apartment six years ago (in October), my parents told me they were going to get me a "really nice" vacuum cleaner for Christmas. So, I didn't buy one. Come Febuary, my parents were refering to the vacuum cleaner as my birthday present. Two years later, I still didn't have a vacuum cleaner. I finally asked my father if I should just buy a vacuum cleaner or if they still wanted to give me one as a present. Dad told me to go buy one for myself and he'd pay me back. This did not make me feel particularly loved, especially as my apartment grew more and more dirty. I finally did buy myself a vacuum, but I'd completely fallen out of the habit of using the thing by then, and now it is back on the list of home maintanence issues that I struggle with.
This sort of thing happened all the time, growing up. It infuriates me. I have all kinds of long-winded theories about what makes a gift and what does not, what the essential elements of gift-giving are, because of this. The time spent shopping for them, the consideration of what I like and don't like, and whether or not they make the effort to actually give the gift on time: these are all essential elements to the formula to determine how cherished I will feel when given the gift, and how much I will treasure the gift given.
I like to give gifts a lot, though it is now rare that I'm willing to expose myself that much to a friend or casual lover. In this, as in so many ways, I need to feel like the relationship is secure and that their commitment to stay in my life is unwavering before I'm willing to risk more rejection. The effort I put into them is just too great, and so on top of the time and energy put into trying to express "I think I know who you are," or "I want to share with you something I love" in the form of a material-object-exchange, also comes the fear of being seen as narcissistic. After all, the reaction the gift gets is so important to me that I worry I might be seen as only giving a gift because I want the affection, the appreciation.
LDB's handmade treasures are something of a mixed blessing for me, then. While I love the effort and thought she puts into them, thus far most of them have been more complicated than she estimated, and the gifts are given late. I completely adore that she's using the desire to give me a gift to push her own envelope, to explore her own creative energies, but my childhood gift-related baggage makes me really unhappy if they arrive late, and since they're explorations for her, they might be somehow ill-suited for me in one way or another.
She gave me a pair of socks last winter that are just a bit snug around the ankles when I try to put them on, and it really fucks me up every time I open the sock drawer: the choice to put on something easy and quick or to struggle into this love she expressed to me. She's knitted me two or three pairs of arm warmers, and I get into knots every time I see them, because I can never quite make them work with my outfits. She knitted me a ski mask that I completely adore, but takes very specific weather to wear.
All these thoughts were going through my head today, as she sent me various links to hats she might knit for this family member or the other. I started to get really worked up over all of it. I don't want something that I can only wear part of the year, or might not fit. But how can I tell her that? How can I tell her what to knit or not knit? But doesn't she deserve to know? Wouldn't she prefer to make me something I'll really like?
Finally, I worked up the courage to tell her not to knit me a hat. "You mentioned that before," she replied easily. "I was thinking about doing this instead, but am worried you wouldn't like it. Reassurance and input, please?"
Maybe, in the end, it's the reassurance and input that we're all needing.