Losing Family

Many members of my extended family chose to separate from me when I first came out as gay in the early '90s.  The large majority of members in the 'church' I grew up in were related in some way as the church was built on my great grandparents farm.  It didn't take long for that kind of gossip to spread and to realize how unwelcome I was.

Let me pause for just a second and clarify a quick point.  Much of the time, when I talk about my family in general terms, I am referring to my mothers side.  I cut off contact with my dad and his side of my family for many years because of the abuse.  Though I currently have interaction with them now, it will more than likely cease when my recent decision to stop pretending is made more public. 

Though I was the apple of my grandmothers eye, I never won any type of approval from her husband.  My existence reminded him daily of my Mom's imperfections and he let me know it.  When I got involved with my first girlfriend, it only made a bad relationship worse.

My uncles didn't show much interest in me while growing up, but were ready, willing and able to join in my grandfathers dislike of me when I refused to let my grandfather berate my youngest brothers.  I admit, I wasn't nice about it!  My coming out only solidified their justification in attitude and one of them has not spoken to me since.  The other had to tolerate me because of my relationship with his wife.

The one comfort I took throughout the years of various relations deciding to shun me was the promise never to walk away by my aunt by marriage.  She and I became close after I disclosed the abuse by my father, and she was the only family member I confided in about the other assaults I'd gone through.  As I reached adulthood, our aunt/niece relationship became more like close friends and she began confiding in me as well.  She was the thread that linked me to my family.

That thread however, began to fray about a year or so ago.  The story surrounding it is too long and detailed to explain in this post.  Losing her has left a hole whose pain is only rivaled by the passing of a cousin and my grandma. Fundamentalism won its final victory over me.  Though my heart still bitterly mourns the loss, there is nothing of value left for it to rip from me.  There is nothing and no one left for it to use to manipulate me back into its clutches.  A high price to pay to be sure, but freedom is worth it!