I survived so that I could tell the story. I’m the vessel, and emotionally that was sufficient - until it wasn’t. Now I’m trying to have a family now it’s not just me. It’s time to grow up and move on because shame is destructive - and if not dealt with, it can destroy everything in its path. And my shame was really connected to my relationship with my mother and my ex-relationship with the church. My mother had been through so much already, so much persecution by her religious community because of my queerness, that I just didn’t want her to have to live through their “I told you so’s.” I didn’t want to put her through that. I was the statistic that everybody said I would be.
So I’d made a pact with myself that I would let her die before I told her.
That’s what I was waiting for, if I’m being honest.
