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It's no secret my mother has been emphatically against me being gay. Since the moment I told her I was gay, she has become increasingly aggressive with her desire to get me to change. Stopping to consider how this affects me doesn't seem to cross her mind, and figuring out ways to hurt me seems like it's her new favorite past time. When I originally posted this, I asked myself a question. "Was it worth it?" I know I can't change the past, but answering this question truthfully now, will affect my perception of my mother forever. I talk about this as if I haven't already come to a conclusion, which would be an absolute fallacy. Last night my mother and a few of my brothers and sisters made me aware of how unwelcome I am. My mom even brought up this very incident and asked me what happened to her son who used to stand for something. Truthfully, I have no idea what happened to the son she remembers, he's certainly not anywhere I have looked.
I have this scar on my arm. It starts at my elbow and it used to go all the way down to my wrist. Over the years my scar has shrank and faded away due to my aunt’s (she’s a dermatologist) constant care. Still the memory of how I received my scar has never faded.
Most people don’t know the difference between the degrees of burns. A first degree burn means that the outer layer of skin has been burned, the epidermis. A second degree burn means that the burn got through the outer layer of skin and damaged the second layer, the dermis. A third degree burn goes right through the first two layers of skin and damages the hypodermis. It can also involve muscle damage and even burn all the way down to the bone.
Third degree burns are tricky bastards. They burn through the nerves, so they don’t actually hurt. The only pain that people feel, are from the areas where there are second and first degree burns. So the fact that you can’t feel it actually tricks you into thinking that you aren’t as hurt as you actually are. For a few moments you think that you might actually be okay. It’s a lot like when a cartoon character runs off the side of a cliff, and for a moment he's floating in midair, but then he looks down! If only he hadn’t looked down, he would have stayed suspended in the air indefinitely.
When the iron frying pan came crashing down on my arm, it felt cold. I thought that I was invincible. Then I saw chunks of my skin stuck to the bottom of the pan as he raised it up to hit me again. I heard my skin sizzle, and I knew I was hurt. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother behind me. She was pregnant with my sister, and I knew I had to do whatever it took to protect her.
I was getting out of the shower last night, drying off in front of the mirror. I looked up at my reflection and I noticed my scar for the first time in a long time. I remembered who gave it to me, and why I had it, and for a split second I thought to myself, “Was it worth it?”
My mother can’t even look at me anymore. She’s treating me like I am a disposable nothing. She makes me feel like she wishes I would die tomorrow, so at least she could preserve the memory of who I was, and not who I am or will one day become. That way she could pretend that I wasn’t a sinner and I wasn’t damned to burn in hell.
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The scariest moment in my life wasn't this one. I know it seems pretty bad, but in the grand scheme of my life it barely cracks the top 5. The scariest moment of my life was the moment I realized that my mother wasn't going to be there for me because I am gay. It was scary because I knew even being surrounded by so many people that cared for me, my mother wouldn't be one of them and nobody could replace her. I have since come to realize that it could get even worse. Most of my brothers and sisters are now proud members of the, RGB is going to burn in hell alliance. It's a lot to take in. I am doing my best to not let this be a bigger deal than it is. But it kind of feels like a pretty big deal. Maybe I should do my best to take solace in the fact that they are doing this because they love me. Still if that were the case. I kind of wish they didn't love me so much.