Entry #605319, added on 09-03-08 @ 9:17 pm EDT
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| March 29, 2006- If you can't read my Yahoo blog... | Entry #605319 |
March 29, 2006 - Wednesday
If you can't read my Yahoo blog, here it is on myspace.
I work overnights taking care of a young man who was in a car accident ten years ago. As he sleeps, I alternate between turning him and flipping channels to find something to fill the ten hours that I sit alone in the all too quietness. On Logo* last night was Coming Out Stories. It told of a woman, Karen, who has been dating women since her son was born six or seven years ago. She had never come out to her mom or sister, which was the purpose of the show.
Thankfully, I was alone while I watched this because the show put me in tears. Now, I'm not a big crier normally and especially not around people (with the exception of my wife) so I was glad that I was alone.
Her sister's reaction was one of joy. She was proud of her for coming out and asked her, "Do you feel better now?" as if she already knew and was waiting for Karen to acknowledge it herself. It was then time for her to tell her mother. Her mother had previously told her that she loved her unconditionally but in certain circumstances would that still prove true? Karen was so afraid of losing her mother and though she came at it from the angle of, this is something to celebrate, she was shaking as she told her mom that she was gay.
As I'm sure you may have guessed, her mom hugged her, told her she loved her, and even jokingly said that if she had to do it over again, she'd probably do the same thing! Ahh, the happy ending and yet for me, one of envy and tears.
I thought of my own coming out and how different the reaction I got was. How embarrassed and humiliated I would have been to have that on video for the world to view. As cameras rolled, the world would have seen my mother screaming how she couldn't have a lesbian for a daughter. They would listen in horror as she threatened suicide because of me. And they would undoubtedly feel the sting I felt as I was compared to a child molester, called a sexual deviant, and told that I was destroying my children with my immoral lifestyle. The camera would pan to my sister, whom at one time considered herself bisexual and even lived with her girlfriend- something only I knew. Her face judging me would say it all as she sat by and said nothing.
Fast forward four years later. I am not accepted but tolerated. I am not loved but disapproved of. It is the white elephant. We don't talk about it now. My family's motto forever- Ignore the problem and it will go away. I want to accept that I will never be accepted but I find difficulty in this. I want it to not affect me. I want to not cry about it. I want apathy. I want a mom. A real one. One like my children have.
I had a long talk with Koty yesterday about some things that I was wondering if he did when I was not around. Namely, I asked him if he cussed when with his friends. My nine year old answered truthfully, "Mmm, not much. Not the real bad words at all anyway." With the same honesty, I told him that I remember being a kid and doing the same thing. As long as we were very clear that it's never to be done around adults because it shows disrespect. This simple acknoledgement branched into a bigger discussion in which Koty told me, "Dad says not to copy him. He wants me to grow up to be a better man than he is." Biting my tongue to not say anything against my ex husband, I simply agreed. I told Koty that me, Mom, and Dad all want the boys to be better than what we were. To have more than we had. I told him that our parents all made grave mistakes as we were growing up and we were working to avoid making the same mistakes. We talked the rest of the way home. When we got home as Koty was helping to get the groceries out of the van he said, "Mom, thanks for understanding about stuff." My heart leapt but I said only, "No problem."
Maybe she's wrong. Maybe I'm a better mother now than I ever would have been closeted forever, living as someone I didn't even know. If only she saw that. Maybe one day, I'll stop caring if she's accepts me or not. Maybe I'll stop praying for her heart to be softened and her to acknowledge my whole family, including my wife who makes me so proud and so happy every day. And maybe I won't. Maybe I'll never get the love and acceptance that I am looking for but I wake up every day knowing that my children will have more than I did. My children know every single day how proud I am of them and how I will always love them- no matter what. Truly unconditional love.
Peace,
Angie
  
Angie aka rainbow_writer
Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. ~E.L. Doctorow
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