Broken Silence: Torn Apart

BROKEN SILENCE: TORN APART.
Truth hurts:
Here we are standing face to face; these past few days seem to be like an eternity, one endowed with agony, tears and unanswered questions. I look at those familiar brown eyes of the boy I used to know, love and cherish as my son but all I envisage is a stranger, one I have known all my life and yet seems distant and anonymous. My world came tumbling down with one word, all it took was one word to tear my world into two…
“I’m gay” these words re-echo in my subconscious, still not registering otherwise having any meaning whatsoever. Did he mean merry? Happy? Perhaps it’s all a dream - a very bad one- and soon I’ll wake up to the perfect and blissful life I’ve always known. But I’ve been awake for a while (a very long while) and this nightmare doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. As I sit here staring at my invisible wall, safely buried in the surreal, my whole life flashes before my very eyes. The strains of pregnancy, the seemingly infinite labour, the joy of the birth of my son and the overwhelming urge I had to protect him and nestle him safely under my arms shielding him from the wicked ways of the world. Watching him grow and emerge into a young and responsible teenager filled with vast potentials and well-equipped to take on the numerous challenges and obstacles which were bound to occur as the transition from childhood to the maturity phase. Someday he was going to make me a proud mother and perhaps a grandmother. A lone tear slides down my cheek as all my dreams and visions evaporate into the still air. From the trivial such as meeting my daughter-in-law and selecting the color of the aso ebi for a wedding to more complex ones such as facing the world at large and sticking by my child as he faces the harsh criticisms of disapproving family members not to even speak of the scrutiny from society and his peers. The society we reside in doesn’t accept such ungodly “European” acts. Unanswered questions flood my mind…Are some people really born that way or is that just an excuse? How am I ever going to come to terms with his sexuality and love him regardless? Will time ever heal the pain and this anguish I feel at the depth of my soul. If only I had been a more perceptive and sensitive mother maybe I will have seen all the glaring signs. He never liked playing soccer like his peers, always a shy and withdrawn kid…are those the signs? The questions run helter skelter in my mind and I doubt if I’ll ever find satisfactory answers. I feel contrite and poignant as I fear to face the days ahead…
Flip Side:
I still can’t comprehend how I blurted those words out. All I know is that I deeply regret saying them. All I seem to have done is cause deep pain and agony in the lives of the ones I love dearly. I felt like I had no choice, here I was with nowhere to run and no shoulder to cry on. I was lost, alone, cold and empty. As the dawn of each day approached, I awoke with a guilty feeling. Guilty of my emotions and the fallacy of a life I was living. I knew I wasn’t supposed to have these feelings; they were wrong and a taboo towards man and God, or so I was told. It was a lifestyle that had been ostracized and condemned for centuries and will continue to be. But I couldn’t help the way I felt, as the days rolled by and I gradually came of age these feelings grew stronger. On several nights I prayed hard and cried myself to sleep as I pleaded with “The Man Upstairs” to take these feelings or me away from life filled with hurt and confusion.
I’ve always been the perfect child, the one who never stayed out late or got drunk. The one with the perfect grades and constantly involved with charities and good will. That child that other mothers looked at and wished their children were like; an epitome of flawlessness. Perhaps I did this to avoid dwelling on provocative thoughts or to cleanse myself of the stigma intricately linked tome, hoping that society will accept me regardless of one little flaw. All my life I always knew that I wasn’t the stereo-typed boy. I wasn’t a soccer-maniac or girl crazy like my peers. The harder I tried to fit in the more depressed I became. The claustrophobic feeling had reached its climax and I had to come clean and set myself free. I doubt I have done that now, recalling the suffering on the face of my mother. I feel more misplaced and alone now than ever…
The Aftermath:
Gradually but steadily, I watch both take unsure and minute steps towards each other. Within the blink of an eye this evolves into giant strides and culminates into a sprint as they hurl into each others arms and collapse on the ground, tears flowing freely, all emotions bare. From this moment a new journey is about to commence. One that’ll be consecrated with tears, filled with bumps, jerks and unexpected sharp turns as they head towards an unknown destination. Coming to terms with issues such as homosexuality are often devastating and threaten to tear relationships and families apart forever. But some bonds and ties will weather any storm and stand the test of time. Bonds between a mother and her child; a relationship that lasts for eternity even when the distance and death separates them, they are still linked united as one and they will thrive under any circumstance to make meaning and find a way when there seems to be none knowing that trials which occur only make us better and stronger people. Acceptance and reality is hard, hurtful most of the time, as we realize that all our dreams and future plans vanish before our very eyes and there’s nothing we can do about it. As a result of this, journeys ahead seem complex and bleak but with intertwined hands and a modicum measure of faith, we’ll pull through and come to a realization of the true and purposeful meaning of our lives.