Letter to Mom: 2021 Update
So I wrote this letter to my mom right after the 2016 election. It was terrifying at the time, but it was also the first time I’d found the courage to be completely honest with my mom, particularly as it pertains to being queer.
In the ensuing 4.5 years, not much has happened, at least not on the surface. I’ve kept my distance, I do not speak to her unless we’re at a social gathering (and since she’s in the South and I’m outside of Philly, that’s happened like three times, max), and then it’s cordial but cautious.
Saturday I got a text from her, wanting to to reconnect, saying she misses me, etc., and then ending it with “This doesn’t do either of us any good.” And in the past I would’ve read this and felt guilty, felt anxious about her opinions, and been inclined to sweep everything under the rug as is her preference. But I’ve had almost five years of distance and therapy and mood stabilizers, and hoo, buddy, did that give me the perspective I desperately needed in ways I didn’t even recognize until her text.
At first, I wasn’t going to respond, but then I decided, nah, let’s give it another go. I spent hours writing a response, had someone I trust review it, and sent it yesterday. SPOILER ALERT: per a sibling who spoke to her today, Mom thinks that I’m “being a bully” and “cursed her out in a letter.” So no, it didn’t do a damned bit of good, at least not immediately.
But unlike my last giant letter, I really don’t care. Last time around, I remember being so amped up on adrenaline I was shaking as I clicked send. I checked my email constantly for a reply. I was terrified I’d just permanently destroyed my relationship with my mom. This time, though? I said what I said, I was honest and open with her, I laid bare a lot of the trauma I’m working through. I’m proud of what I wrote, and her reaction is completely not my problem. GOD, it feels so good to say that. The letter is below the fold.
Dear Mom, Thanks for your text message the other day. I imagine you've been through a lot recently, particularly with X starting on their new life, so I'm sure emotions are running high these days. I hope you can find peace through it all, and trust X to make the right decisions for themselves going forward. I am responding to you in an email because 1) text is a terrible medium for any conversation that goes beyond picking up something at the grocery store or giving someone your ETA, and 2) even though past experience says this letter will be just another iteration of Lucy with the football, where my honesty and perspective gets written off as "hateful" or merits no reply at all, I still am willing to talk openly about where we're at. Fair warning: this letter has ended up being much longer than I originally intended, and so I hope as you read this, you will keep an open mind and try to actually hear me, rather than get swept away by denial or all the ways you think I'm wrong. Feel free to take your time to read and process it. You're obviously welcome to think whatever you like, but if there's any hope of repairing our relationship, it's going to require you to really understand and respect where I'm coming from. It is not easy to talk honestly with you. You hear what you want, and you discard the rest. You approach every interaction with judgments you've already made about the person, and if they are your child, that judgment is compounded by the assumption that you know best, and that if our choices deviate from what you have decided is best, it's a problem with *us*, not a problem with you. And to be clear: we all pre-judge people. It's both instinctual and learned behavior so we can assess potential threats and keep ourselves safe. But the key difference is that, when I make a pre-judgment about someone, I make an effort to recognize that judgment I'm making, and I keep myself open to the probability that I'm wrong. I'm do my best to identify instinctual racist, classist, xenophobic thoughts that I have, but then let them go and not let them affect how I interact with a person. I am far from perfect at it. But I am trying, and in doing so, I've met lots of people with experiences very different from mine, and my life is so much richer for it. In your text you said "This doesn't do either of us any good" and right there, I'm going to have to stop you. You do not know my life. You do not get to make the call as to whether or not this separation has done me any good. Frankly, that alone makes me reluctant to talk to you, because it illustrates that you still feel that you know what's best for my life. And you don't. You really don't. You do not acknowledge or respect that I am an adult, and that your opinions about how I should or shouldn't live my life are not welcome unless I specifically ask for them. I know that's hard to hear, but it really is the first step towards possibly maybe repairing things between us.
While I have missed having you and dad in my life, the truth is that this distance has actually done me a world of good. I am unpacking a lot of traumatic stuff, I am learning a lot about myself, I am starting to recognize how messed-up things in my past continue to echo in me today, and I am learning how to deal with it, rather than repress it all away because it's too scary or unpleasant.
I am so grateful to be in therapy, learning about boundaries and why they are important, why it is vital for people to respect the boundaries we put up. I am slowly learning that I deserve love and full acceptance no matter whom I'm attracted to, no matter how much I weigh, no matter whether or not I go to church. I'm not going to lie, it's been hard, and I've had to face a lot of really devastating stuff. But I keep doing the work because I want to keep getting better. In terms of a relationship with you, however, I can't keep going back to that well. I can't keep putting myself out there, hoping you'll accept me for who I am without judgment or disapproval or a loaded sigh. I can't keep trying to anticipate what's going to piss you off, what's going to spark a fight, what's going to start the proselytizing. It's exhausting, so I've simply opted out.
*** Truthfully, I do miss you and dad quite a lot. Part of me hates that you're missing out on seeing G become the fantastic person she is, and missing the other stuff going on in our family. But the thing is, a much larger part of me needs this space, not only for me to heal from a lot of messed up things, but also because I am fiercely protective of my daughter, and I will not allow her to be hurt by anyone who would reject some of the most important parts of who she is. Letting your kids go and be their own, fully independent adults is a challenge, and as a mom, I get it. I dread the day G leaves home, and I can absolutely relate to the fear of worrying you won't be important in your kid's life anymore, so you scramble to find ways to stay connected and influential. It's one thing to deal with a parent who tries to dictate your life when you're 16 or 19 or even 23 -- I have no doubt it's hard to let go right away after a couple decades of raising a kid. But the longer it goes on, the less acceptable it is. I am 46, a few weeks away from being 47. I have a great job, a great husband, a great kid, and a quiet, stable, happy life. I get paid well, I’m really awesome at my job, I have lots of amazing friends, but even with all of that, I know that it's not good enough for you because I am not a Christian. Can you even imagine, for just a second, what it feels like to have achieved as much as I have and know that your mom still doesn't think it's good enough because you don't pray every day or go to the right church (or any church)? Right now G is fairly sure she's gay, and D and I are one MILLION percent supportive of her. My most important mission in life is making certain she feels not just unconditional love and support, but I want her to feel *celebrated* for who she is. I never, ever want her to feel that she must change or be different from who she actually is to feel loved and worthy of that love. She is also extremely comfortable in her body, and the only reason that's true is that I've had to work against decades of indoctrination that thin is the ideal that we all must strive for, that our happiness is inextricably linked to the number on the scale. I don't criticize her food choices, I don't talk about being on a diet, I don't say mean things about my body, or anyone else's body. In our house, we believe ALL bodies are good bodies, worthy of care and love and proper maintenance. I tell my kid she is so beautiful every day, but I also tell her how much I love her mind, how much I enjoy watching her create art, how strong she is, etc. I try really hard to give her only positive messages about herself, and how bodies come in all shapes and sizes and configurations, and they are all glorious exactly as they are.
My whole life I got the message that my body was deeply flawed, that my body wasn't good enough for love, that I didn't deserve full acceptance because I wasn't thin. I absolutely refuse to expose my kid to the seriously screwed-up relationship with food that I had. I will not let her spirit be crushed by you remarking she's chubby or exposing too much belly or interpreting her goth fashion as "satanic." I just won't. She's a beautiful, brilliant, kind-hearted child who (so far) is happy in her own skin, and I will guard that happiness with my life. I'm not sure you fully grasp how destructive disapproval is when it comes from someone who is supposed to love you for you, without condition, although I also have no doubt that you have experienced the same destructive message many times over. I'm sorry for every time you did. I have a lot of empathy and compassion for you in this area, knowing that you were taught and have internalized these messed-up views as well. And to be clear, it's not just you; society feeds us these toxic messages at every turn. Frankly, most of our family has pretty warped ideas about body image. We were never taught to fully love the bodies we are in without thinking we need to change them or shrink them or camouflage them. It’s like this relentless drumbeat of “what did I eat, how much did I eat, how many calories did I eat, I am being ‘bad’ when I eat this cake, I am being ‘good’ when I choose a salad, boy I wish I could have pasta because I miss pasta, but pasta is ‘bad’ for me, I wish I could have a donut but I don't want to be judged for having a donut”-- just this constant obsession with what I and everyone around me is (or isn't) eating. It’s such a futile practice, an enormous waste of energy, and I hate that I let it dominate my life for as long as I did. I am working on this, and getting better at it; I have a long, long way to go before I truly accept myself as I am, instead of withholding love and acceptance of myself until I reach some mythical goal weight. But I am also acutely aware of how damaging this thinking has been to my overall self-esteem, and I am determined to protect G from it as much as I possibly can. Like, I remember so vividly being at Brenda's house with you when G was about three or four, and you remarked you were so happy that she was a skinny kid. She was a *preschooler,* not yet able to read, and already you were worrying about her body shape. I know you're just repeating stuff you were taught was acceptable, but I am not continuing that cycle, because I am still dealing with unlearning those lessons and know first-hand how difficult it is to change these ingrained thoughts. I do not want her to have to go through the same process.
**** I am also not ready to let you into my life at the moment for the same reasons I outlined in my letter I sent to you just after the 2016 election. As I anticipated, the Trump administration was horrific, and did profound damage to our country. He was openly bigoted, openly racist, openly crass, openly sexist, openly misogynist, openly islamaphobic, openly anti-semitic, openly homophobic and transphobic, lied constantly, **literally tried to stoke a coup attempt** on January 6th, and still propagates the lie that he won the 2020 election, even though over *sixty* court cases -- most of them presided over by Trump-appointed judges -- and hundreds of audits (run by Republican election officials!) found zero incidents of voter fraud. Every single one of them confirmed the legality and validity of the election.
He has suffered ZERO ramifications for his appalling behavior, because the republicans are both too cowardly and too power-obsessed to do the right thing. Your party has turned its back on ethics, on decency, on accountability, on consequences of any sort. And that is repugnant to me. But it's even more repugnant because you--and most Trump supporters--say that you're Christians, when the actions of your party are so far removed from the values that Christ taught it blows my mind that you supported Trump for even a moment, much less 5+ years. There is no compassion in that man. No humility. No kindness. No love, aside from his warped love of himself. He literally regards himself as a messiah of sorts, saying he’s the only one you can trust, he’s the only one you should listen to, he’s the only one who can fix these (entirely invented) problems. It's never about anyone else, because he’s a narcissist, and any questioning of his infallibility is regarded as a threat and betrayal. It's never about using his enormous power to help those most in need. It's the farthest thing from anything Christ wanted people to do, and indeed, the very opposite of what are supposed to be Christian values. To put it plainly: any Trump supporter who also claims to be a Christian is a massive hypocrite in my eyes, because support for Trump is antithetical to Christianity. You and every "Christian" Trump supporter have sold out your integrity to keep a terrible man in power. When given a choice, you supported an authoritarian bully and assumed God, who NEVER sides with the bullies, agreed with you. Frankly, that's not a god I want anything to do with. I sure hope it was all worth it, because as someone who has dealt with both sexual assault and severe bullying, I don't know that I can ever forgive you for supporting a bully and a rapist. This is not about "differences of opinion." Like, you and I could disagree all day about issues like, I don't know, public school funding, or the tax code, or how we can protect the environment. And that’s fine! Healthy, even But when it comes to fundamental issues of human rights, there simply is no room for compromise. You can't give full human rights to one group and then turn around and deny them or make them harder to access for other people. It's both illogical and inhumane.
Let me be abundantly clear: BLACK LIVES MATTER, full stop. There is tons of *demonstrable,* scientifically-backed proof that Black people are targeted and killed by the police at rates exponentially higher than white people, but all you see is a """""marxist""""" organization, which is as ridiculous as it is offensive. And yes, I've been to their site, I know what they stand for, I've done my research, and I support them fully. I am proud to march with Black Lives Matter, and use whatever power I have as a white lady to fight the racism that's baked into our society. I heard your snide comments about people on welfare and those who received stimulus checks during the pandemic, and it just broke my heart. Number one, you were directly insulting A, for whom that assistance helped her feed her kids and pay her rent, but number two, it's yet another example of how GOP policy is predicated on making life harder for people who need help. You want people to "pull themselves up by their bootstraps" even though the literal etymology of that phrase was to ridicule an act that is physically impossible. As someone I know recently said: republicans reward rich people by giving them more money, and punish poor people by taking it away. It's not just completely backwards, it's unconscionable. You despise trans people, and support legislation to make it harder for them to exist in this world, even though there is literally no evidence of a trans person sneaking in a woman's restroom to attack someone, and the anti-trans bills circulating the country--particularly the ones targeting kids and athletes--are actively harmful to an at-risk group of people. Trans folks are attacked and killed daily, but all the GOP cares about is "solving" a non-existent problem. And, in case you forgot: I am bisexual. I am physically, emotionally, and sexually attracted to both men and women. I am finally proud of who I am, and I will not apologize for or hide that fact any longer. My rule for being in my life means full acceptance and celebration of who I am, not tossing out the weak-assed "love the sinner, hate the sin" bullshit, because the very idea that a fundamental part of who I am is "a sin" and that I should be loved *in spite of* who I am, rather than *because* of who I am, isn't really love. My sexuality is as intrinsic to me as my eye color. I could no more hate myself for being bisexual than I could for being right-handed. This is who I am, and I will not keep people in my life who cluck disapprovingly about aspects of my personality or try to change me into something I am not. But really, I am not ready to let you in right now, because I have little faith that you will listen to these issues with an open mind and an open heart, and consider that I just might have a point or two. All that I've seen in the past is your unwavering faith that you know best because you talk to God and I don't. You have not demonstrated any curiosity in my life, much less anything that even resembles whole-hearted support. It's always support-asterisk. Support only if I say and do the things you think I should. In the past, when I've come to you with a difficult issue, rather than letting me talk about my thought process, you go, "did you pray about it??" No. I didn't pray about it. That is not what I do. "Well, if you prayed about it and are doing God's will, then I'm sure it's fine," yeah, no. Praying is not part of my life. Whether or not you accept that is entirely up to you.
*** The thing is, if you ever asked me what I do believe in, rather than making your assumptions or judgments, you'd see that I've actually turned into a pretty decent, accepting person. I believe in the humanity, dignity, and value of every single living, breathing person on this planet, no matter their race, their gender, their sexual orientation, their religion, their physical or mental abilities, their homeland, their body shape, their income, or their education. I believe only a woman and her doctor should ever make decisions about her reproductive choices. I believe that consenting adults should be free to do whatever the hell they want, without government interference, and without harassment from religious folks who arrogantly assume they know better, so long as it's a) consensual and b) not causing harm to another person. I believe people should be allowed to love whom they want (again, consenting adults), dress how they want, identify as they want, because when more people are living a happy and authentic life, it makes the world a fundamentally better place.
Basically, I ascribe to a "live and let live" doctrine, where I am able to live my life as fits me and prosper, and I want that same freedom and opportunity for literally every person on this planet, and the only way we can achieve that is through loving and supporting each other as a society. Even you! I believe you should be able to worship whomever and however you want! But I do not believe religion is a shield for bigotry. As dad so often notes, "Your freedom to swing your arm ends at the end of my nose." If someone wants to hear the gospel, great, have at it. But if you ignore their cues, or flagrantly disregard their specific request to be left alone, then you’re the jerk in that situation, and you have earned the consequences of your disrespect, whether it’s walking away from you or laughing in your face or cutting off contact entirely. Your unshakable belief in your absolute correctness of your values does not override the boundaries or consequences that the person you’re preaching at might enact.
Honestly, the church I was raised in and the way the evangelical movement in particular has insinuated itself into politics has done vastly more to push me away from Christianity than anything else. I don't want anything to do with a religion that believes that being gay or trans is a sin, that every person who doesn't believe in Christ is doomed to hell, that refuses to recognize the bodily autonomy of women, that denies the enormous amount of racial injustice still poisoning our society. Even in the nice, supposedly non-political churches we've attended, just sitting in the pews makes me feel like I'm tacitly endorsing those beliefs, and my conscience simply will not allow it. I find evangelicalism in its current state--which is dangerously overlapping with a whole lot of white supremacists and armed militias--to be horrifying, and I want nothing to do with it. Nothing. My thoughts and worldview are the result of a lot of exploration, a lot of listening to other people, a lot of work checking my preconceived notions, a lot of intentionally getting outside of my comfortable bubble. I have read, I have studied, I have listened, and these are my beliefs. I am grounded in them, I am proud of them, and yet I always try to remain open to new perspectives I might not have considered. Hell, ten years ago I had some pretty backwards ideas about trans people, too, but then I started *listening* to people's lived experiences and their challenges, and their dreams, and realized that my opinions about trans people were not only irrelevant, but actively harmful. So I got better at it. I have trans friends, I have non-binary friends, I have genderqueer friends, and I love every single one of them exactly as they are, and actively fight to make this world a kinder place for them. What really sucks is realizing you have never demonstrated that sort of openness or acceptance to me. You have this incredibly stark perception of [THIS] is right, [THIS] is wrong, and everything in the world can be sorted into one of those two bins. And I know this estrangement pains you, but I will not expose myself to that ongoing judgment. As I said above, you are absolutely welcome to believe whatever you want, and I honestly support you in that, even though I might disagree with your views entirely. Where we differ is when you decide you get to dictate how you think other people should live their lives, whether that's me, my sisters, or some random transwoman who just wants to pee safely in a Target. And honestly, while I held a lot of resentment towards you for that incredibly binary thinking, as I age I find that resentment being slowly replaced with more of a sadness, because you are missing out on so many wonderful things in this world. You are missing out on the exuberant, defiant joy of the LGBTQ movement -- of which at least one of your daughters and certainly one of your granddaughters is a part. You are missing out on seeing, truly *seeing*, the beautiful humanity of your Black neighbors, and instead of standing beside them, fighting against the horrific injustices they see every day in this nation--a nation founded on their blood and their labor, a nation that continues to communicate in countless ways that Black people are not valued in our society like white people are--you tell a Black man TO HIS FACE that BLM is a terrible organization, and in so doing devastated someone who has been more of a help to A than her potato of a spouse has ever been. And most of all, I'm saddened you're missing out on G. I am so crazy proud of that kid every day, and I feel stupendously lucky that I get to be her mom. Parenting her is a joy, because she knows every single day on the planet that her mom and dad adore her without reservation. She is allowed to become who she really is, rather than who I think she should be. And as a result, we have a bright, happy kid who sings to herself and has so much compassion for other people and creates art and is hands-down the most fashion-forward child I've ever met, and best of all, she is not afraid to talk to me. We have a fantastic relationship, one that is based on trust and love and unconditional acceptance. It's the easiest thing in the world for me, to love her with my whole heart, without any reservations or judgments, even though I sometimes grieve for the little kid I was who never got to know that sense of safety and acceptance.
*** I grew up with so much shame as a kid. Shame saturated my life. I was raised in a church that said if I didn't worship God, if I didn't read Christian books, if I didn't listen to Christian music, if I didn't tithe, if I was gay, if I had sex outside of marriage, if I supported reproductive rights, if I didn't take every opportunity to witness to people, regardless of whether or not my evangelizing was welcome, I was at best disappointing God and at worst, doomed to eternal torture in hell. I grew up with a perpetual fear of hell, which was so toxic, and utterly traumatizing when I was a kid. I grew up anxious about every decision, everything that I said to you, because I craved your approval so badly, and I knew that approval was granted only so long as I adhered to an incredibly restrictive and narrow worldview. If I strayed from that worldview, it was a crapshoot as to what the consequences would be. Would I be yelled at? Punished? Rejected? Told that I had strayed from God and I needed to work harder to be accepted and loved? Who knows, but I experienced them all, many times over. So no. I am not about to bring that endless flow of shame back into my life and to my kid, not until I can be certain beyond doubt that you're not going to try to criticize her, shame her, judge her, or otherwise do anything that is less than full, unconditional love and support for who she is. I deserved that as a kid but didn't get it, so you can believe I am going to do everything in my power to ensure she has that sense of safety, even if it means making hard choices. I find it worth noting that, in my Nov. 2016 letter to you, I laid out three basic rules for our relationship going forward: 1. Stop preaching to me and my family. 2. Make an effort to respect me, respect who I am, even though I am not who you want me to be. 3. Leave me out of your politics. And to be frank, you haven't held up your end of the bargain. You still send me Proverbs on a daily basis, even though I have very specifically asked you not to include me on your mass-forwards; you still try to loop us in on whatever the latest preacher seminar you're attending. You have made no indication that you are willing to respect me and who I am, even though I am definitely not what you want me to be. And you have not left me out of your politics -- most recently having the audacity to pipe up with your anti-BLM garbage on my FB page. To put it simply: I can't trust you. And I have learned to love myself enough to recognize that I deserve not just begrudging tolerance, but enthusiastic, celebratory support from anyone who claims to love me. Because if that love has strings (spiritual, monetary, or other), then I don't want it in my life. While it might seem counter-intuitive to say this, based on everything that's preceded it, I do love you, and I do miss you. But I am not willing to compromise on these boundaries, not until I can be sure it's safe to do so. I hope things change at some point. I really do. And I hope you can read this letter and really really really *LISTEN* to what I am saying to you. If you want back in our lives, there is work you're going to have to do. I hope I've been pretty clear about my terms. And I hope you understand that, just like I'd respect any boundaries you set for your own well-being, these boundaries are mine, and it is my call when (or if) they come down.
