On Friday I bought tickets to visit Malaysia. I bought the tickets to see father not to see you. I felt dread and anxiety overwhelming me within 2 hours of buying those tickets. It got bad enough that I almost cancelled a first date I had planned. I didn’t in the end, and I am glad because if the head gremlins had won, they would have taken the whole weekend.
I beat them yesterday, but I can’t deny that they are there, and they will be building momentum up to 26th of August. Doubtless I should contact my therapist before that, and make sure to have appointments booked for afterwards as well. But that is to look me and my mental health. And I know how to do that.
What I don’t know how to do is how to handle our relationship. The message you sent to me after the last blog? I quote, “Wow! Microscopes so expensive? No, you are not a wicked person. In fact on the contrary you are a kind and compassionate person. You care for the less fortunate. You cook food and take it to those who had no food. That impressed me ver much. Talking about food I am hungry already. Love you. Mum here.”
I have been working on £350,000 microscopes since 2010. Since my very first job as a microscopist in fact. 8 years… and still a microscopist… did you expect me to be working on less expensive ones? The only way I can rationalise your comment is that you never absorbed or remembered ANY details of my job at all. Which I can only extrapolate to mean, you don’t know or remember ANY details of my LIFE at all.
I just watch one of my favourite ever TV series. It’s called Queer Eye. In this current episode, they filmed the Fab Five giving a church community centre a makeover, and how this church, in rural southern united states, welcomed the gays into their lives with an open heart, and how their open arms healed some of the wounds which were in some of the fab 5 from being ostracised from his church.
People cry when they watched this. I too have cried from other episodes. But I simply couldn’t connect with this episode, because the church I know, the church you go to, takes genesis and leveticus so literally you exorcised me after forcing me to answer whether I liked women.
I simply cannot connect to you at the moment. Your two line message told me you didn’t know me and are just regurgitating nice things at me because you are afraid of me. I don’t want nice words at me. I want the truth. I want your commentary on trump. I want to know your church’s view on gay people. I want a level of adult communication that actually mean something and isn’t said to placate.
Can your church do what this church in the show did? IS your church a safe place for gay people? Can you reach out to the gay community in the Klang Valley and provide them with a place to meet and love? Because I know people in the community, and I know so many people who have been thrown out by their families for being lgbt. Can you help them? Or are they too damned for your help? If they are too damned for your help, then being one of them, I too am damned.
Empty words aren’t enough. Empty words don’t erase everything you have said in the past. A friend once told me – forgiveness is letting go of hurt, anger, sadness and pain to live a a better, happier life. Forgiveness isn’t letting the abuser back into their life to continue the abuse.
That is what I have done, and if I could make a clean cut I would. But you live with my father, and I am going to visit him, so I will inevitably have contact with you.
I have layers upon layers of scars caused by your words and actions. I can’t even remember what it was you said to me in Wigan the last time we saw each other in person. I only remember storming out of the house and crying on the green for close to two hours.
I don’t know how to stop your words from hurting me. It doesn’t matter how many protective layers I build, it still happens.
I can’t talk to you. It hurts.
There are possibilities for communication though. Perhaps if you really have changed and your church is inclusive, and you invite me to it, and introduce me to the lgbt community within your church. Perhaps if you seek out counselling, and family therapy, I can imagine having moderated communication (NOT a church counsellor). Perhaps if you really take into account all the hurt you have caused over the years, and write me a heartfelt letter.
Or perhaps this is all a dream and none of this can or will ever happen. The dream of Sunshine, remember her? Young, innocent, happy. Before she turned into the non-verbal child who never speaks, only cries and clings to whatever provides safety and security.
I know you’ve done your best as a mother. I appreciate that circumstances back then weren’t great. I know you are still doing your best as a mother. I appreciate that. but I cannot connect with a mother at the moment. I can maybe connect as a friend, but I am choosy about my friends and I certainly have no other american-style-fundamentalist-evangelical-christian-homophobic friends.
It isn’t enough.
As long as you are homophobic, or even if you claim not to be, but you still attend a church which is homophobic… I’m afraid I can only take the words you say about me being a good person as a peace offering, and not a true representation of your views at all.
It isn’t enough.
Remaining homophobic isn’t enough.