Me and Asterion

2. the main points.

I first encountered the story of Theseus and the minotaur when I was very young. Even then I felt drawn to the story but not quite sure why. I wasn't very existential or empathic at the time so I settled on the undeniable fact that the minotaur was cool. Growing up when I thought of a powerful villain creature it always came to mind. Although, I remember it standing out when playing with my stick weapons and trying to imagine fighting monsters. I remember clearly hacking through dragons and slaying hydras with my oak branch sword, and despite the minotaur being big and scary it was also always a kind of comforting creature that I couldn't imagine fighting me. Eventually I just put it aside until I came across the story again, much later.

Fast forward to when I was first struggling with a few existential thoughts about life and death and the meaning of it all, normal teenager stuff really, and I was in the school library when I came across a book of Greek myths about the gods. I was struggling with my own religion and thought it would be fun to explore another. Rereading the story of Theseus and the minotaur was a revelation for me really. Wether it be the story was written to humanize the creature or if it was my own struggles with divinity seeping through, I felt horrible for the beast. Asterion wasn't a monster. He was born into the word by the whims of an angry god to spite a mortal. His mother and his father before her, were the ones who did wrong and yet he was the one cursed. He was born where he had no choice, and was hated by all for it. Only his mother and sister cared for him and even they grew distant. His father threw him into his prison and he grew mad from his treatment and the confinement before he was finally killed. It was then that I realized his story wasn't that of a hero killing a monster like what young me had first believed, but it was the story of a poor boy born unloved and thrown aside for sins he hadn't committed.

This was huge for me, as my struggles in that moment with the story was reflecting my struggles with my environment at the time. See, I was surrounded by hatred. Hatred over how people were born, primarily. I couldn't understand why it was wrong to me, but a fact of the world to others. Whether it be a family member hating a man because he was born black, or a classmate hating another kid because he was born deformed. None of it seemed right to me. I had grown more empathic but this story was, again, huge for me. For I could suddenly see why they hated others. Not because it was right to hate them, but because they were seen as monsters. The same way Asterion's family saw him as a man while the world saw only the beastly minotaur. Suddenly I understood how a family who only ever saw a black man as a criminal would hate every black person they met. From that day onward I've made an effort to treat everyone equally, for even if I were to meet the real life equivalent to a minotaur I would not want to be the person who treated him badly. So I decided I would always try to make sure to smile and ask for his name.

Some time after that I began suffering more, teenager++. It was a few different pains. Some physical, mental and emotional. But what in particular does not matter. One day I was sat in the shower, water pouring over me, sobbing. I was sat with my knees to my chest, one arm hooked around my ankles to keep them from sliding away in the water, and the other hand in my hair. I broke down due to said pains again, but I eventually collected myself and started laughing thinking how stupid I must have looked. After getting out of the shower the thought still clung. Am I so different that I cry weirdly? It would make sense. I was finding myself to be extremely different in almost every way from my peers. So I did the only logical thing. I googled it. Feeling better that I did indeed cry in a normal enough way, a thought occurred to me. I wondered if people have always cried in similar poses. So I googled that too. Crying in ancient artwork is an interesting and emotional thing to look over but one in particular hit me. There he was again, Asterion. Sat with legs held to his chest, head in his knees, one hand in his hair. Just like me, someone depicted the minotaur having a meltdown. It sounds weird, but it made me smile. A sad smile, for I felt like I knew him so well in that moment. He was alone. Born a human but cast aside for being different. None would listen to him and hear his side for they had already made up their minds about him. He was a beast. The world made it clear to him that he was too different for it, and he had no power to change that. And so he cried. He sat there cold and alone. Crying, because at least that way he didn't feel alone. I like to think it was raining and he had a good cry. Like tears from the heavens crying alongside him, weeping for a world neither could change. I saw them that what little Asterion needed was someone to sit with him. To tell him that he couldn't tell them what to believe but he could show them. Go out there and be true to himself, but prove to others that he was important too. That no matter how different or weird, he could still smile and tell someone his name with pride. People may sometimes forget to to be kind or to ask for such things. But they aren't evil. Most people just believe the world to be full of monsters. They forget that it's full of beautiful life, all deserving of the same kindness as all of us, and that life comes in all kinds of shapes and sizes. And with that Asterion taught me to love myself, and that no matter what I wasn't alone after all.

I still have that optimism but I have become a little more jadded. Or I guess world weary? I've seen met some who were horrible people and I've seen them change. Become better. But I've also now seen people be given second chances and they sometimes leave an even darker stain. I've also seen first hand what happens when someone isn't rescued. When help doesn't arrive, and they have no post-shower-cry revalation. I see now that Asterion could have had the same realization as me and went into the world, building himself up to be the weird mutant hero of the kingdom. Uses his beastly visage and strength to win wars for his people and strike fear in their enemies. But I also see the other likelihood. He cried, he got up, and he went back into a dark world. He never got better, never felt loved, and stayed alone. Not his fault, but that of a system failing around him and he being too crushed by the weight of it all to hold it together long enough to get out. I could see that sweet soul grow faint and weak with every face repulsed by his existence. Him growing to see himself as the beast that others do, and wanting the best for people what else is he supposed to do? His father builds him a prison. A prison for the monster that scares all, a great way to get rid of him. And he agreed. Of course he did, why would he resist? In his mind he was the monster everyone saw and he saw a chance to be free. No longer having to feel heartbreak seeing those around him judge his actions, like they were waiting for him to prove what he was. And what would solitude do to a man like that but allow him to stew in his own hatred? Hatred at himself and the world. The first victims to the labyrinth were probably hard for him I imagine. I think most would of lived a few days. Him reluctant to be the monster but eventually seeing them starve to death crying out in fear I could see him decide to instead be their executioner. I wonder how long before he fully accepted even then that he was the monster? I can see them how he would stare at Theseus, the man having snuck in a bronze sword. His way out. He could be the monster, or he could be the hero for once. Just don't resist. I don't know if he would break down in tears pleading for death, or if he would just stand there watching the blade sink in. I like to think he still fought, never dealing a killing blow. Perhaps not even wounding the would be hero. Either way, his ending is a sad one.
A man turned monster, and accepted it.

I escaped that. I know that now, deep down. I had my revalations at pivotal moments, and I got up. I had none around me to help, like Asterion, but I somehow found the insight that has carried me through the years. I don't like to think about my future ahead of me at the time, I know the first immediate steps and they along scare me, but I know the minotaur I would of been would never compare to the me that I became.