The Freeing Of One’s Self

And The Love That Comes From It

I recently came out as bisexual to a select few of my family members and friends (oh and um to Medium) and the weight that has been pressing on my heart is slowly lifting. To say that I have freed a huge portion of myself is an understatement. The love, respect, admiration, and acceptance that I have gained from these loved ones carries an intensity behind it that I cannot fully express. I am living during a time where it feels easiest to release, so releasing is proving best for me at this stage in life. I mentioned in “But, God Still Loves Me…” that I began telling my mom a tidbit of what I wanted to discuss and I shared everything deemed shareable with her today. I am a Writer. I like expressing myself through the written word more so than being an open conversationalist.

I wrote a short note in a blank card and gave it to her so that she could read it. My mom got to the third line and closed the card and said, “I am so happy to hear it from you, but I have always known.” I began crying as she was mouthing these words to me. My mom did not miss a beat, “I know my children. I just do.” I told her to read on, to see why it was so hard for me to just let go and open my mouth and say, “I am bisexual. I have known for as long I can remember…” A lot of the pent-up pain had to do with fear and not knowing how others would react, particularly, my father’s family. My mom is very matter-of-fact. She is also a person who, when time was not as kind, was violent and had a bit of a hot temper on her.

Change is a beautiful thing when one can watch it take place.

Delving into my opening up with her today lead us deeper into things that occurred of which I was not aware. A few years back, a close family member of ours broached upon the topic of my sexuality and called me derogatory and vulgar names in the presence of my mom. To make it simple and plain, I was labeled something I am not based on appearances and assumptions. My mom and my cousin used to argue and fight often so I thought it was just another ordeal conjured up from their past that they had not yet gotten over, however, my mom let it be known today that my cousin had said something out of line about me and she went ballistic. I remember receiving the phone call from my younger cousin to come and pick up my mother because all “hell had broken loose.” She never uttered a word to me in the car about the “why” of it all and I assumed she started the argument. The only thing she said was, “She crossed a line. I wasn’t having it.” I left it alone.

“I have been praying and crying and asking the Lord to watch over you. I knew, I did not know how to tell you that I knew, but I have been fighting battles over your sexuality long before today. I will not have to anymore. Be free, baby.Loose yourself. It is the only way you will truly be happy.”

It is jaw-dropping how we chain ourselves to blockades and keep our own selves from moving due to fear and the expectations of others. “You placed yourself in a box for so long and for what, baby? Why?” To answer that question among others from my mother, my cousins, and close friends over the course of the last few days has been eye-opening. There was no doubt in my mind how my mother would take it — I never feared that part, the fear came from simply saying what I needed to and watching her reaction. It came from stepping out of the dark and into the light and how overwhelming that can be when things are no longer sheltered — when things change. When we lift up rugs and start unearthing the shit that has been swept under them for years, breakthroughs happen.

Breakthroughs are meant to happen.

My mom is so free with her words and thoughts. I have always envied that. She has no problem being open, honest, upfront, and forward and it has taken me years to gain a sense of backbone somewhat close to hers, so answering her questions today was a welcome reprieve. And then this happened, “So, are we going to go to a gay bar or a strip club together? I think that would be fun.”Whoa! Hold up, mom. Pump the brakes. I don’t bar it up and you know that. And, I damn sure don’t want to go to the strip club with my mom. But then I thought, “Well, why not? What is really holding me back from going out and enjoying a night out on the town with my mom? Truly enjoying a night out on the town…”

Not a thing. No thing. But, me. Myself. My Self.

Life has a way of breaking you down so that you can get up and when you get up, you better be ready to fight the rest of the way through. My mom is willing to go out with me to places unfamiliar to her, allow me to be free in my element, in the comforts of every realm that I love, without hiding it from her. Although I do not bar it up, I do like being in environments where a simple release comes as soon you step through the door, a welcoming. No one is talking behind your back, snickering, pointing fingers, or charring you up with the flames in their eyes because of who you date or love. And if my mom wants to be with me while I continue on this journey of freeing myself, in time, I think I can be cool with that. But for right now, digesting it is taking place.

We never know what our parents think, how they feel, what battles they are fighting on our behalf. Had I not shared with my mom today, it would not have been brought to my attention that she too had been hurting because as a mom, she was fighting for her child regardless of who it was and how she felt about them, she was willing to be Mommy Bear, protect me, and continue to do so for her child. That is a love that knows no bounds. That is a love that cannot be defined — knows no singular description.

That is a love that allows me to be free.

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Originally published in Other Doors via Medium.

You’ve made some changes in my head, 
I don’t feel the same
No more
Tell me it’s not make believe, 
This feeling that you’ve shown
To comfort me, my love while I’m alone