I log onto my blog today, ready to write about being Bi-Sexual, something I feel may be one of the greatest identity dialectics I struggle with…but now all that must wait…for a little reflection:
REALLY? MY MOTHER?
Not that I don’t respect her and realize that she respects me and my choices in life and love, but I can’t help but feel a little…violated. Yes I realize this is a public blog and not like that diary hidden in the back of your panty drawer, but STILL!
Those who know me well, know that I have taken some efforts to separate one “identity” from another: professional versus play life..and so, imagine my surprise when I discover 8 COMMENTS from my mother tonight!
How in the hell did she find me on this virtual black hole that is the internet? And why? And yet the real question…why did she choose to read and then let me know that she read by “commenting”? It’s a little passive aggressive no? Or perhaps I am just sensitive and defensive about this…invasion…okay yeah so I am. And yes I realize that if I publish these musings in something more permanent one day, the whole world will know, not just my mother…but…but I just wasn’t quite ready…to be outed!
I think that’s really what this is about: BEING OUTED!
It’s not that it’s not true…it’s that somehow I needed it to come from ME…in my own time, when I felt “ready”…collected…analyzed…resolved…not NOW while I’m still struggling towards…becoming…not now when all my stumbles and wounds are so fresh! And yet, part of me says…why NOT now?
I remember the last time my mother read my diary. It was in highschool and it contained the self-absorbed whining of teen angst. It was ripe with emotion, pain, sex, and simple drug use…it was normal…AND it started a complete shit-storm in my family. I was sent to the shrink. I was cried and screamed at. I was locked in my room…and away from my few friends and boyfriend. Who saved me? My shrink who said, “Mom back up, she’s just a normal kid…oh and by the way how abut YOU and I schedule some sessions?” THANK GOD or rather thank the shrink…
Anyway, this time…she can’t “lock me up,” or can she? The simple knowledge that so much of what I write about is personal…things I have not and do not wish to discuss with her…not to mention that I have spent my ENTIRE LIFE TRYING TO PROTECT HER FROM ALL OF THESE THINGS…and now I cannot, maybe I never should have…protected her, from the truth…I will continue to write as I always have…it’s important to know…when to let go.