Open Letter on the Eve of my Wedding

Dear Mother,

I wish you understood what was going on in my life. I wish you felt that sense of peace and happiness that I feel when I’m with my partners as myself. I wish you understood how holy and sacred this union is, how nothing satanic or evil could feel so sacred and perfect. I wish you could understand how I see my partners: as God sees them, perfect and flawed and perfectly flawed. I wish you could feel as secure in yourself as I do.

You told me it “wouldn’t be appropriate” for you to attend my wedding. I agree. It wouldn’t be appropriate for the one who abused me to see me so happy, to see me mended and whole where you would have me broken and helpless. I wish you had the confidence I’ve found, the healing I’ve found from my own abuse as you have never healed from yours. I wish you understood that someone who tells you not to trust your own intuition, someone who insists that only He knows the truth, that you are broken and flawed and can never measure up and so cannot understand what is sacred and what is evil, is an abuser. That your pastor, that your image of God, is abusive.

That you abused me in the same way.

God doesn’t make mistakes. God made me to be the person I am, genderfluid and masculine and perfect just how I am. God made me with the infinite capacity for love: love of my partners, love of my family, love of my friends, love of my fellow humanity. God made me pure and sweet and kind, affectionate and friendly and gentle. You made me bitter and broken, full of self-loathing that spills out into sarcastic bitterness towards my fellow human. And yet you hold your God to be the true one, the real God, master of all others. Why? You shall know them by their fruits, Jesus said, and the fruits of your philosophy are bitterness and hatred and brokenness, while my God offers respite and forgiveness and wholeness.

You said yourself it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to be present at my wedding. I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be present in any way, in my thoughts, in my heart, in my life. Not until you have forsaken your evil trajectory and your sinful God and found peace and wholeness.

Goodbye, Mother. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope you can find even a fraction of the peace and harmony I’ve found. I hope…

But it’s done, now. The time for hoping and forgiveness and prayer is over. I’m growing and changing, and I’m done letting you hold me back any longer. I’m done with the wages of your sin, the death that your path leads me down. I know who I am. I know who belongs in my life. And it isn’t you.

I wish you all the best,


This entry was posted in Life Lessons, Musings, My Story and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Open Letter on the Eve of my Wedding

  1. Firedrake says:

    Hey, congratulations!

    You are you. You are at least a bit functional. It is not my, or anyone else’s, business to put a label on you.

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