The one word
Most people dread
Like the plague.
And yet
Our daily life
Revolves
Around this.
A fact
That I learnt
The hard way.
Accidentally
"Outing" myself
To my mom.
On a holiday
Long weekend
Surprise visit.
As if
My exploration
Of gender
And sexuality.
Is a face slap
To her raising me
As a child.
Never mind
For more years
Than I care
To remember.
I lived my life
Her way.
Filled with
Chronic depression
And multiple suicide
Attempts.
Courting Death
At any cost
To ease
My soul deep pain.
Upon her rejection
Of me
As her trans-lesbian
Daughter.
As I ran away
My eyed filled
With bitter tears
To Toronto.
After losing
My apartment
In Brampton.
(A commuting suburb
Of Toronto).
(Knowing
Unconscientiously)
To move in
With her
Would be signing
My death certificate.
Wondering
Where her words
A lie?
To justify
Her abusive
Manipulative behaviour.
When she says
I love you
T------.
My birth name.
Therisa © 2017
Author's note: Had thought, of using the video for Soft Cell's Tainted Love, or looking for The Supreme's Where Did Our Love GO?, but realized, both songs deal with love and relationships, from a CIS point of view, for the straight and gay communities.
My mom has trouble, writing out or saying my name, Therisa, as if, it was a toxic poison. Often, in cards or conversations, she will behave, like I have never shared with her, my need to live my life, as a woman.
My mom has trouble, writing out or saying my name, Therisa, as if, it was a toxic poison. Often, in cards or conversations, she will behave, like I have never shared with her, my need to live my life, as a woman.
6 comments:
Stay strong, Therisa. Things will get better.
It's with sad irony, that I'm writing this, despite my mom's words (written and spoken), body language and actions, I see her lies, when she says, she's comfortable with me. The raw fear, in her eyes, when I look, into her eyes, and her avoidance of being around me, in public places, like shopping malls. Triggering chronic anxiety attacks, whenever, I have to interact with her. To the point, I have stopped all contact with her, in later October 2013, for the sake of my mental and physical health.
The Sad part is, I want my mom to be part of my life, but am unwilling to pay the price that she is asking of me. I know, given her advanced age, she'll never change her behaviour towards me, as long as, she lives.
Do you think she'd "hear" this from the inside of a poem--something she cannot get person to person? Your poem rings with narrative clarity. I remember how cruel Rilke's advice seemed until years after I had survived my personal crisis: "Avoid providing material for the drama, that is always stretched tight between parent and children; it uses up much of the children's strength and wastes the love of the elders, which acts and warms even if it doesn't comprehend. Don't ask for any advice from them and don't expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it." (You might enjoy his book "Letters to a Young Poet" which is on my heart today. This is from #4.)
Sending love and light your way..!
Therisa, there are many in the older generation unable to accept or understand, unable to open their doors that wide. The line that strikes me is the fear in her eyes. She has old thinking, making it be about her when your journey is always and only about you. I doubt she understands the pain she causes you and I am sorry you have to bear it. I am happy to see you writing and posting, kiddo. Stay strong. You are being true to yourself and that is what matters.
How very hard that must be for you.
Post a Comment