As I’m sure you’re well aware of, I have taken a break from blogging. I just couldn’t write. I wanted to write. I intended to write and maybe I needed to write, but I didn’t. I’ve been on another journey of sorts. The journey of becoming who I am without my mother’s approval and quite possibly who I was supposed to be all along.
When I “came out” to my mom I was still figuring out what being a non-christian meant. I was still struggling with the things that I had recently discovered and I was not really ready to have those questioned and scrutinized by others, much less my mother or the rest of my family. I should have waited to revel my non-belief, but that’s not how it happened and we’ve all paid the price for it. I watched with shaky hands and a quivering voice my mother’s face when her, what she calls suspicions, were confirmed. The look of confusion, the shock and horror, right into pity, mixed with some contempt. At that moment our relationship changed forever. It is broken.
I’ve needed some time to think through that, and then some time to not think about it at all. Now I’m thinking about what I am going to do about that if anything. In late December or early January it become too much and I cut ties with her. I stopped taking phone calls, which were very limited in the first place, with me doing all the work, and I stopped answering email and texts from her. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done, because I’ve always craved her approval. I became very angry, and still feel that at times. Angry that she was allowed to have her thoughts and feelings about a belief and share them with me and tell me what she thought about me and my family and where we would be going and what would happen to us because of it, but I was not allowed to do the same because I was brain washed(her words).
I was trying to do the right thing by letting her have her time to grieve. She even stated to me that she should have time to grieve how she saw fit. I agreed with her, however I allowed her to mistreat me and my family for way too long. Calling me names, spreading rumors and lies about my husband, disrespecting my children. The list could go on it does go on. I was/am angry and hurt that love didn’t win out. That I didn’t receive what I would have given. It’s been a time of reflection these last seven months.
I saw my mom for the first time in seven months yesterday. I noticed her hesitation in coming up to me and I felt her sadness and hurt as I hugged her. Conversation didn’t flow easily and we only shared a few words together. We were acquaintances and not friends. We were mother and daughter in name only. I am still saddened by the relationship that I would have/have always wanted with her.
I am angry that religion was one reason my mom said all those things and acted the way she did. I’m angry that religion continues to hurt people, that it makes it ok to say and do and think and be a certain way. Even though I’ve dropped religion it has continued to not only impact me, but my family as well.
Religion along with some other issues my mom has, has taken away my relationship with my mom. It has broken, beyond repair, the relationship with her and my husband and has caused an almost non-existent relationship between grandparent and grandchild.
I miss my mom at times and I’m sad of the relationships that are not flourishing because of what has taken place between us. I don’t, however, miss the judgment, the verbal abuse, bullying and the constant approval I craved.
“Change will not come if we wait for some other person, or if we wait for some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.”
― Barack Obama
I’ve been seeking my change.