Well, everyone has heard about how I've felt about my dad, so I guess it's time to write about my mom. The person I first had a connection with. The person who gave me life. The person who I'm most scared to lose. Let's dive in.
I'd have to say I'm a huge mama's boy. It's alright, I admit it! I used to hang around my mother all the time! I used to want her to come with me everywhere, and whenever she worked too much and we would be away, I would cry and get upset because I missed her soo much. I would get out of the car to chase her back, I was constantly creating these spontaneous, crazy gifts for her for mother's day and her birthday. I'm her youngest, of course I'm a mama's boy because she held onto me the longest! That and because I'm her favorite, whether she wants to admit to it or not.
What makes her different from my dad? My dad always gave off this cold attitude. He was very inapproachable, which wasn't very inviting to me and my friends. My mom is different. She's funny, very inviting, and always has that come bug me look. I am highly sarcastic, and she understood that and would joke with it. Me, my brother, and my cousins always felt like we could just laugh and have a good time with my mother; meanwhile with my dad, he never really joked with us. If I was joking or being sarcastic about something, he'd take it seriously.
One time my mom joked about giving me a beer and she pulled out a water. He gave her a dirty look followed by a, "I was getting ready to slap you upside the head". Obviously it was a joke. But that's the kind of stuff that makes the connection with me. I don't like that I can't joke around with a person. I'm serious when I need to be, not 24/7.
My mom made it easy for us to ask her things because she didn't carry that cols attitude. When my dad said no, it felt personal. Like he was saying no specifically because he didn't like us. I know that's not why, but that's the way it felt, and when you're going to ask something, you kind of want to be let down easily. When we asked her, she would generally joke about saying no, but mean it. It would make for about little wiggle room to get a yes, but it felt more easing when she said no because when she said it, it was no to what we were asking. Plus, when I ask something, she talks to us about it. Whenever my dad talks about something, it doesn't even feel like he's talking to us. It feels like he's talking through us with all this information, which to me, half the time is irrelevant.
Modesty. Now this isn't a huge thing, but it's just something that annoys me about my dad. I know what both my parents have done for me. I know that they have done this on their own and half the time, didn't have the money for it. My dad is constantly boasting to his friends and no in front of us about how he got all this and how he is entitled. I'm the big chief around here, I'm the one who makes the law. Boy you guys don't know how good you got it! Nothing annoys me more. My mom doesn't do that. She's never constantly boasting or anything. She let's everyone admire what she's got and she keeps it pushing. Enter clapping hands emoji here.
So why did I choose to write about this? How am I relating this to being gay? My upbringing versus my coming out. My dad has said since day one that if we were grown up enough to make the decision to be gay, then we were grown up enough to be on our own. He made it very clear that he was against it and does not condone any of it. I have a gay cousin on my mother's side and he was very set on talking to him about it. He wanted to tell him he was wrong for it and it is because he grew up with all women. But he wouldn't take that out of us; we grew up with a man around. My sister used to tell me that I shouldn't even tell my dad in person because he may cause harm because of it. His entire feelings towards the matter created a bigger disconnection than anything.
I lost any interest in somebody who would only always try to change me. Since I was younger, if I had acted not manly in any sense, I was made known of it and told to stop it immediately. He made me scared to be me. I realized quickly that who I was, I couldn't admit to him. I never connected anything of what I was doing to be gay, I was just being me, which obviously my dad didn't like. So I tightened up. I created this false version of myself, which soon became me. Whenever I fell out of that tight rope of a personality, I became paranoid and would bug my friends about it.
Soon, I realized it was ok to be me. There was nothing wrong with the way I acted or the way I did things, it was my dad who had the problem. I liked who I was and who I am. I figured, if he didnt, then don't stick around me. I began to stray away from him so that he didn't have time to say anything, or he didn't have enough time to process it. He had already morphed me enough, as I grow to be the man I'm going to be, I have to like me, I don't need to care about what anyone else thinks. Naturally, this created a very thick wall between us, one I was not willing to let down.
My mom was a little bit different. She never told us that she would kick us out for being gay, but she still made it very clear that she was against it. She would say things like little faggot, or it looks faggish. She would tell us that it was ungodly and how it would never be accepted. She told me, there was no place for people like that.
My mom had this ability to hurt my feelings. Not something many people have. Most of the time, I brush off what people think about me or something else. What they said didn't affect me, and if it was about me, you were way too irrelevant to me and or your word didn't mean shit to me. But with her, ever since I was a kid, I would be upset with her because she had said something that deeply hurt me. This is no different.
She made me scared to be me because of fear of losing her. Even if she didn't kick me out, she wouldn't like me. What if she referred me to be the little faggot or everything I did to be very faggish? It would hurt. Especially coming from someone who I loved very much and didn't want to lose. I created that tight rope of a personality to keep her in my life. I figured she wouldn't like me if I was anything else. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't fun.
I remember how she would make me feel. Whenever she talked about gay people, she was disgusted. She would say that they are all diseased and they had no place. I knew not to believe her ignorant comments, but it still hurt. To think, that's what she thought of me. I remember when we were in the car one day and being gay came up somehow and I said people don't care anymore and she responded with no matter how much time passes, they will NEVER be accepted. I remember in that moment, I just wanted to jump out of the moving car right into traffic.
More than anything all I wanted was for her to continue liking me and stay in my life. I realized that if I had told her about me, she would never like me again. Recently she would talk to me about being gay and I asked her what would she do if I was and she responded with I wouldn't know what to do. Whenever my friends would ask me why aren't I out to my mom, I would relate them to my biggest fear: I'm not out to my mom because I can't deal with the reality of her not being able to look at me. Whenever I walked into the kitchen, she wouldn't utter a word to me because she wouldn't like who I was. I never felt any closer to that until that night that she told me she wouldn't know what to do. I knew it would take her time, but I myself couldn't deal with those 2-3 weeks of her not being able to look at me.
This passed weekend, I was outed to my mom by my aunt. She said She needed to know. My biggest fear was beginning to become a reality and I had no control over it.
I was planning to come out to her. Just not now. I knew if I came out to her, I would then have to tell my dad. Which again, I was not prepared for. I would have sat her down and talked to her about who I was and how I got here. How I felt so alone. How years ago I hated myself for it. How I tried nothing more than to change myself. Then how it changed me; broadened my horizons. How I became a better person because of it. What brought me here. What support groups I had. Everything.
I wanted her to be apart of my life that I had accepted. This life that I loved more than anything. I wanted to show her with how happy I was. The amount of people who didn't care. The friends I have made because of the connections. The creativity it had brought me. The love it had connected me to.
I wasn't intending her to find out that way. If anything, I would have never guessed that out of everyone, my aunt was the one who would hurt both me and my mother in this way. After all, she had a gay son who lived with her. Why would she want to hurt us both like that? To have somebody who could now understand? I don't think so, I don't believe she's that kind of person. I believe she was just as drunk as my cousins were saying. Either way, it wasn't right for her to take that away from me. I was supposed to tell her myself. Not have my mom find out from her aunt who may have just wanted to be even.
But now I've got to deal with this, and then soon after with my father. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, but these are the cards I have been dealt and now I've got to play them with the best strategy I can give: honesty. It's time to play the cards, let's see how they unfold.
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