Disowned?

I thought a lot last night about who my father is.  I wondered if I could go through the rest of my life not knowing who he is.  I wondered if I could forgive my mother for keeping such a secret from me. I thought about right until that Ambien finally kicked in, then I fell asleep.  Thank goodness for sleeping pills or I might not ever go to bed.

When I woke up this morning it was back on my mind.  I just needed to know more about this man. I really needed to find him.  Since my mother is the only person who knows him to my knowledge I felt it was her responsible to shed some light on the situation.  She must know something about him.  I couldn't believe that she didn't know his last name.  Surely that couldn't be true.  I figured I had caught her off guard with the whole conversation and she just needed to take hold of her senses again and focus.

I was on my way to an appointment around 10 AM and decided to use the drive to speak with my mother.  I plugged in my hands free device, dialed her number and then started on my drive.  I could tell I had woken her by the sound of her voice.  I apologized for waking her.  She said it was OK.  I decided that I needed to just get to why I was calling her before I lost my nerve.  I told her that I really needed her to find my father for me.  She insisted that she couldn't.  She just kept saying that it was a long time ago and she had no idea where he was.  She was not getting my point so I tried to explain it to her better. I let her know that I didn't expect her to know where he was, but what I wanted was for her to find out.  Surely she knew something about him that would help locate him.  She continued to insist that she didn't. 

What struck me as odd about the conversation is that she said more than once that it "was 25 years ago."  That it was just too long ago to remember.  At first I just shook it off but after she'd said it a few times I finally realized what she had said to me.  The last time she knew where my father was, was 25 years ago.  I'm 35.  So she knew where he was until I was 10 years old.  For some reason in that 10 years she couldn't be bother to commit the man's last name to memory?  She quickly became frustrated with the conversation and tried several times to get me off the phone.  At one point she even said something to the effect of "You know I have a husband so I have to get off the phone."  I'm not sure what her husband had to do with the two of us talking. I, however, refused to hang up.  I tried one more time to plead with her to help me.  She again insisted that she couldn't tell me anything.  At one point I made a comment that if I had gotten pregnant by a guy I'd at least know his last name.  So basically I called my mother a whore.  I didn't realize that was what I was saying at the time, but the more I think about it... 

I decided at that moment that although I could forgive my mother for this, I could not forget it.  I don't think at this point that I can ever have a real relationship with her.  She's never been a mother to me.  She didn't protect me when I was a child.  She didn't raise me.  Countless times she's choose men over me.  I realize that all my life I wanted something from her that she just can't give me.  I finally realized that although my mother and I are related...we're not family.  I think that I'm finally OK with that.  Before I could let my mother go I needed her to know who I am.  So I did something that I never thought that I could do.  I told my mother that I'm gay.  The only thing that she could say to me was "Are you serious?" I told her that I was.  After that I just didn't have anything left to say.  There was no more of me to give to her. 

I told my mother goodbye.

You'd think that would be the end of the story...but you'd be wrong.  Per normal, when my mother is feeling hurt she turns to her white knight.  The only constant man in her life.  My brother.  I have no idea what she said to him.  I don't even want to speculate.  But, whatever it was made him very angry.  Maybe 30 minutes after I spoke to my mother he called me.  I was busy at the time, and assumed he had nothing nice to say, so I decided not to answer.  That is probably the smartest thing I've done this year. He left a voice mail.  Shortly after I received the following text:

"I will see u nigga don't u ever talk to my or my mom real talk i will all ways hate u. You are not my sister u do not want to fuck wit me."

Why is it that the first thing I wanted to do when I read this was correct his spelling, grammar and punctuation?  That seems like such an odd reaction to me in hindsight.  After I read the message I just put down my phone and continued on with my conversation.  After my appointment was over I checked my voice mail.  I won't transcribe the message here as it was quite graphic and colorful.  There were several threats of physical violence towards me.  He did say to me that "I have never been his sister." at one point.  I remember thinking that was funny.  I think I actually laughed at that part.  But you know what, he's right.  He and I have never really had a real sibling relationship.  We don't talk to each other.  Our kids don't know each other.  I have only seen his youngest daughter once and she was 3 years old when I did.  The two of us have nothing in common except some shared DNA.  What I find so ironic is that he also knows we have no relationship towards each other and yet he took out the time to write me such an eloquent text message.

So here's the funny part.  I let my friend read the text and listen to the voice mail.  She was more upset about it than I was.  Actually I'm not upset about it at all.  I don't feel like I've lost anything.  I don't feel like I did anything wrong in talking to my mother the way that I did.  I actually feel relieved.  I finally put my family issues to bed.  I know who my real family is and it's not those people.  My family are the people who love and support me no matter what I do.  My family are the people in my life who have been and always will be there for me.  I finally realized that sharing DNA doesn't make you family.

I never thought of this phrase as something you'd say related to your relatives but it's accurate in this case.  I love them but I'm not in love with them. 

To say that I'm not affected by all of this would be a lie.  It definitely did affect me.  I think that this needed to happen.  I think that this was the time for it.  I think that I am finally strong enough to really be me.  To let the old family stuff go.  To move on with my life and finally be who I was really meant to be.  It does sadden to that I have to leave so many people behind.  As they say some people are a part of your life for just a season.  This is one season that I am finally glad to have end.