The Card

I decided to get her a Mother’s Day card. I went to the Hallmark store and got a blank card that had a pretty, religious design on the front and said simply “Happy Mother’s Day” thinking that would be the best card for her. She’s so devoted to her religion that I knew she’d like the card just because it had a cross on it, and some pretty flowers, and looked vaguely sentimental. My original plan was to write something rude, sarcastic, snarky, or mean. Something to reflect the way she’s been treating me all these years. Something to hurt her the way she’s hurt me. But that didn’t happen. My years of emotional openness with Justin, going on ten years together now, have made it so that I ended up telling her exactly how I feel. I started out on the left side of the card, writing kind of small. When that was filled I moved over to the right side, then the back, then I pulled out some stationery paper that I had lying around that just happened to go with the card and started writing. By the time all was said and done, I’d filled the fronts and backs of two small pages of the stationery paper.

Mom,

I was originally going to say something hurtful and mean because that’s what you would have done to me. I decided, however, to tell you exactly how I feel about you. I want you to actually read this and consider what I’m saying before throwing it away, which I know you’ll do. I know you like to pretend that I’m not your son, but unfortunately, that’s the case. I’m sorry that my life didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to. I’m sorry that I’m gay. I’m sorry that you can’t see past your religion to know that you’re supposed to love me unconditionally. The Bible doesn’t just teach about honoring your parents. You’re supposed to love and support and help your children.

No matter how badly you treat me, no matter how many times you try to turn me straight, you’ll always be my mother and I’ll always love you. You say you love me but I have no proof of that statement from you. I know I yell at you and I get mad at you but it’s because that’s how I react when I’m hurt. I get that from Jack.  It’s what we Kinney men do best. You’ve cut me to the core on more than one occasion, hurting me like no one else can. Not even when Justin walked out of my life did it hurt as much as it did when you believed John over me. Nothing could make up for the fact that you would actually think I would do something like that. How could you even think that? Is it because I’m gay and according to you all gay men are pedophiles? That’s not true in any way.

You have to understand that I’ve been this way my whole life, Mom. This isn’t a choice. This honestly isn’t something that I wanted. Why would I choose to live a life that would make you hate me? Why would I choose a life that would get me ridiculed? Why would Justin and I choose a life that would get him hit in the head with a baseball bat and nearly killed? It’d be like choosing to be black during the 60's, or choosing to be Jewish in WWII Germany. It’s not a choice, Mom. It’s who I am and who I will always be and if you can’t see that, I’m sorry.

You said it yourself, we used to be close. You used to have milk and cookies waiting for me when I’d come home from school. Even if you were tired and just wanted to sleep, you would take the time out to take care of me. You were the one that would comfort me when I had a nightmare. You actually showed me that you loved me. You even told me a couple of times. You made everything Jack ever said to me go away because I knew that at least you loved me, even if he never wanted me. Then things changed. When did I stop being your baby boy and become a nuisance? What did I do so long ago that made you stop loving me? That made you stop protecting me from Jack. What could I have possibly done that could have warranted getting smacked around? I’d really like to know.

I want to know why you started drinking. Why you would ignore me when I would ask you for help? Why you would just stand by drinking your wine watching while Jack beat the shit out of me? I want to know why I had to start turning to Claire for comfort because you wouldn’t do that anymore. You wanted nothing to do with me. And I know that it isn’t because I hit puberty, because it was long before that that you started to pretend I didn’t exist. Maybe it was because you got tired of Jack blaming you for my existence. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to get in the way of his attacks anymore. Or maybe it was because you knew. You knew even when I was younger that I would grow up to be a gay man. It’s like Debbie says, mother always knows. Is that it? Were you aware from the beginning that I was going to end up being an abomination to God?

All I’ve ever wanted from you is love and understanding. I’ve never expected you to be like Debbie because I know that’s not in you, but the least you could do is love me because I’m your son. You don’t have to like that I’m gay. You don’t have to be happy about it. You don’t even have to be proud of me for any reason. I just want you to love me and to show me you love me and to stop trying to turn me straight because it’s not going to happen.

The day that hurt the most was the day you came by Kinnetik after you found out about the cancer. Instead of being there for me, being the mother I needed, you used it as an excuse to try to change me. When you came by I actually thought that things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, you might be proud that I’m your son. You sounded impressed that I had my own agency. You sounded proud of me. But there was that hesitation when you said you love me. There was that moment of doubt before coming out and saying it. Like you knew I wouldn’t believe you. And then you started in on all the bullshit about God sparing me so I could change my ways and become the good little straight boy you want me to be. Well, it’s not going to happen, Mother. I am queer and there’s nothing you can do about it. So why can’t you just love me for who I am? Why can’t you treat me like a mother is supposed to treat her son? Why is it that you have more love for a complete stranger than you do for your own flesh and blood?

I have a partner, Mom. A wonderful young man who’s been with me for the last ten years. We’ve been through so much together and I love him very much. We’ve even gotten married. I know it’s not legal here in the US, but we did it nonetheless. He’s an amazing young man. He supports me in everything I do and I do the same for him. We have a relationship that you and Jack never had and for that I’m grateful. Justin was willing to work through all the barriers that I had to put up to protect myself from getting hurt by you and Jack and eventually Claire. I know that all of you loved me at one point in my life. Even Jack loved me once. But something happened to make it so that the entire family didn’t want me. I have so many emotional scars it’s a wonder I can feel anything.

I’m going to go now and leave you with this final thought. I love you, Mom. I will always love you and you will always be my mom. Nothing you do or say will ever change that. Because I know there is more to you than your cold hearted religion. I know that you loved me once and I dwell on that feeling because if I tried to get through each day thinking my own mother hated me, I don’t know what I would do. I just wish you could find it in yourself to let yourself love me regardless of my sinful ways. Because nothing will change the fact that I’m your son.

Love always,

Brian

I never did get a response to that.

Return to Rena's