“Dear Mom, I love you, but please ignore this post. Don’t read any further. Really. You will regret it. I’m giving you one last chance to turn back before you stumble upon information that you likely do not want to know. If you do proceed, know that you are reading my very intimate thoughts about life, sex and relationships, and if there is anything that you do not agree with, I really do not want to hear it. If you do proceed and just want to talk about it, then I am all ears. You have been warned.” ~Zelda Gillian
It is inevitable. With each passing day, each passing post and repost, the foundation of my anonymity is eroded more and more. It is not that you, my readership, will find out who I am. That I don’t have concerns about. I mean you found my site and are reading on even in spite of (or possibly because of) other things that I have posted… you know “how I roll…”
Dear god that was awful. Let’s try again.
I love my family, but after sending out a few test questions to the more liberal of them, I realized that my life was not something that they would “approve” of. That’s fine. We all do things that others do not like but what we each have to do is get past that. It is just unfortunate that most people cannot.
GoodDump posted a very poignant piece the other day about reading his mother’s poetry in which he ended with this statement:
“I probably can’t read my mother’s poetry because of what I’m afraid I’ll learn about her. But, maybe I can’t read it because I’m more afraid of what I’ll learn about me.” [read full post]
This is doubly so for me and my darker sex. If my folks were to find out about my life they would wring their hands and wonder where they went wrong in raising me. They did nothing wrong. I am this way for myriad reasons, most having to do with an overactive imagination and a predilection for the stranger tastes in life. I was not abused or raised to mistreat people. In fact I was taught to be a defender of other people’s rights. I just don’t think they knew that these would be the rights I would end up defending.
I am the same person that they knew from childhood. I have not changed as much as simply become more vocal about some of those things I only hinted at before. My dad told me when I was sixteen and he was divorcing my mom, “I have been doing things for others my whole life. I just need to do this for me.” He was right. He needed to get away to free himself and to free my mother. Today they are both happier for it. That is all I want. I want to be honest with myself, but that means running the risk of being honest with others that may not be ready for it. I worry that this piece of me will slip out and the friends and family that I have held close for years will back away. For them it is a fundamental change even if the truth is that the only thing that has changed is the point of view.
And so I say to them: WARNING! This is not a friends and family safe zone! If you cross this post and read beyond, it is at your own peril! I do not want to stop any of my family members from knowing me if they want to but I also do not want to force them into reading anything they are not ready to read. We will see in a year from now who knows what.