Truth Revealed
You see, my mother & I have a great relationship. As good as I could ever hope for. One in which we actually strongly considered applying for the reality show The Amazing Race. In fact, whenever I visit, I consider it my task to get Mom to flip me off at least once per day. Seriously, it's a very playful & enjoyable relationship. I couldn't be more proud of how we get along. Particularly in light of how horribly my father & I get along. But that's another post.
So it was with a naive heart that I thought I could hide this blog & my journey from her. I'm sure you already know the punch line to this post. Essentially the first day that K started her own personal blog (February 14th), I left a comment to it. As many of you know, a very quick & painless process in this connected world of words & wisdom. And in so doing, it was left under the profile that is connected to this place in which I share my personal journey.
It was done in a moment. Without thinking. And then I started the commute home from work. A trip of about 45 minutes.
Once there, K mentioned that I used this profile to post the comment, and that she had told her friends & family about her blog. So I might want to remove the comment.
45 minutes.
With a link to this site.
And my mother has long since mastered the use of a mouse.
Let's flash forward to the day before K was to return home from her last trip in New Jersey. April 25.
K & I were IM'g, coordinating plans & looking forward to being together again. The week apart had been very hellacious, particularly since it brought out so many feelings & memories that had occurred from the last trip. I don't remember exactly how it came up, but it led me to ask the question outright. "Does my mother know about my blog & my sexuality?"
Having spoken the secret phrase that would no longer allow her to dance around the truth, she confirmed my worst fear. "Yes, she's known."
Now, before you go thinking that K had been deliberately lying, or embellishing the truth, she hadn't. She had been sworn to secrecy for months by my mother. Sworn to let me come to terms with things, and speak to whomever I chose on my own time. But alas, even I, who is emotionally guarded at my best of times, and a Fort Knox most often, didn't have any control. The truth was out... and it was to myself.
So no, K had not deceived me. But she had hated every partial conversation of me asking & hinting of my mother's knowledge, yet never led to her being able to come clean. And for a brief instant, I hated both her & my mother. Very brief.
Mostly, I hated myself.
For feeling ashamed.
And for being weak.
But that's also another post. Mostly, I felt lost. I had wanted to tell one of my best friends, my mother, about the truth. For several reasons. With as good of a relationship as we have, I didn't think that I could feel as honest as I claim myself to be by withholding something that was such a deep part of who I am. Or who I'm becoming. I'm still confused to think about it. In addition, if for some inexplicable reason, K & I end up going separate directions, I figured it would help the questions from circulating like a tornado if Mom had a brief glimpse of the truth early on.
So the hatred. Again, it was a brief thing. Part of me hated that K had been used against me by my family, but I understood.
It was for me.
For my growth.
For my self.
And I hated that too. Because I hate feeling selfish. I'd rather have the word "selfless" on my tombstone. But I also know that I'm far from that in my progress towards the truth within myself.
Mostly though, I hated that when I found out, it was desperately past midnight on the East Coast. And while this was important & traumatic to me, I didn't think it warranted putting my mother through a sleepless night to call her right then. (See the paragraph above, and know that I try.)
I had previously planned to pick up some tools inadvertently left at J's new bungalow, after helping her put up countless items of framed art. (Which ended up looking incredible by the way, but that's another post.)
After speaking with J, and feeling my heart ready to rend itself in two, or to have a flashfire of anger consume me until I destroyed something of value to her or myself, I did the next best thing. I drove. I drove, and spent several hours driving in the more desolate parts of Arizona.
In my pain & angst ridden anger, flashes of jerking the car off the road, or just "missing a turn" were constant antagonists. But my desire to see K after her weeklong trip, and seeing the smiling face of LD kept me from doing something monumentally stupid. Something that would cause God herself to slap me upside the head.
After making myself quite tired. Numb even. I returned home. And slept through a fit of depression that made me feel barely livable the next day. And in the morning, I called Mom.
And the world didn't end.
And things were good.
Not great, but not terrible.
She reacted as I always figured that she would, but feared she might not.
And life continued.
Still does.
So long story, short. We're visiting near the 4th of July. And I'll be able to share the truth in person. Sure, it's a bit late, but at least I can get a hug, and not feel quite so torn. Not quite so dismantled.
Maybe even loved a bit more.
For who I am.
Comments