My dear sweet cousins Brandon and Brady. MiniMe#1 and #2
I could not love them more than I do.
Dear Readers,
I always expect some homophobia when I come home to Thunder Bay (which is why I only come home every ten years or so). But it’s still very difficult to contend with despite the massive amount of emotional preparation needed before getting on the plane.
I have some 'born again' Christian relatives (a super hateful uncle) who always calls ahead to where they are expected to be, in order to find out if I’m expected. If I am, they'll wait until I’m gone. They just do not want to breath the same air as me. Gay air they called it. Incredible right?
What is their problem?
My dick ain't no where near their asses!
Yesterday I was invited to attend a breakfast with some of the uncle “Christians”. I politely declined and when my grandmother asked why, I told her.
"I don’t eat with homophobics Gramdma" I said.
My sister can hardly look at me because she is such a homophobic.
And yes, she's raising them too.
She’s such a complete and utter uber bitch.
My brother also refused to come home this year.
He's a Baptist hate monger.
You know readers, a Christian heart who hates everything and everyone not like them.
He’ll come home when I’m gone I'm told.
So much of my family is homophobic.
It’s shocking.
It’s sad.
I've never been anything but nice to them.
They're so jealous of me.
I get it.
It's all they have to use against me.
My sexuality.
But the best thing ever, is my little cousins (pictured) ADORE me.
Hahahahaha.
They all ask where I am and when I'm arriving.
If I do not show, I'm told they're very upset.
I love kids and kids love me.
Kids and animals are my favorite thing.
It's always been like that Mummy said.
When I was a small child, I would lunge for small babies.
I would demand that I be able to hold them. I would rock them she said.
Talk to them.
Kids make me laugh until I cry.
They're so innocent.
I was never an innocent kid.
Never stood a chance with father Gurkha around.
'Men' had their hands down my pants by the time I was eight.
And it never stopped until I gathered up the courage to say no and flee.
Our family priest created the most terrible damage to my innocents.
May he rot on hell where I hope he is.
If he's not rotting in hell, then I shall question God and ask him why he let a child molestor into heaven.
Innocents was stripped away from me very early on in the piece.
The same will NOT happen to my cousins.
My dear sweet cousins. I have so many.
My little cousins are incredible and I feel proud that they'll be the next generation of my family.
I can assure you that they will NOT be homophobic OR abused.
Their mothers would NOT tolerate it.
Everyone knows what happened to me.
Because I was VOCAL.
I was NOT afraid to "tell on people".
Protecting children from abuse is VERY high on my advocacy agenda.
It's not just about HIV peeps.
My father was a nightmare parent as you all know. I was taken from my home at a very young age due to the abuse.
His abuse is still legendary in our old neighbourhood.
But now apparently he tells people that HE does not speak to ME because I’m a fag. He absolved himself and his treacherous behaviour, and pinned it on my sexuality. I mean really, what the fuck is that?
Very painful that's what.
It rips your heart out over and over and over again. Yes, I’m happy to have some great aunties and cousins and my mother is a wonderful person. But I’m terrified about bumping into my dad here. It’s been 25 years since I’ve seen him or spoke to him. I’m waiting for him to die. It’s the only way I will ever truly heal and be free from the memories of what he did to me.
Coming home to Thunder Bay is so very hard for me. It all starts out OK. But now I’m on the verge of tears most of the time. The pain I suffered as a child resurfaces when I see certain things and certain people. My sister is one of them. She never protected me as she should have. My sister never loved me.
Even my mother concurs with that.
When I told her the other night that I've developed chronic diabetes and need daily insulin now, she said, "Well, what do you expect Brian, you have AIDS".
Stupid ignorant bitch.
I wanted to slap her ugly face.
But I didn't.
I hate violence.
I took a breath and it was ok.
We left shortly after that.
No hugs good bye.
I can’t sleep at night here and when I do wake up, I feel desperate to leave this place. I wake up in tears. I’m supposed to be here with my mum until the 11th, but I highly doubt that will happen. It was always a lofty ambition. I crave my room and my privacy. Being around homophobia is hard for me.
But I adore my mother and will be strong for her.
Wow, sorry peeps, this is such a depressing post. I’m hoping that by writing about it, my deep sadness for what is the true reality of my family and birthplace will subside until I can get home to Toronto.
When I get this depressed, I think about my dear sweet treasured boyfriend M.
Being away from him this Christmas made us even closer and more determined than ever to make up for it next year. He arrives in April. Then our lives can truly begin anew.
I'm chatting with him now.
He's divine. I swear, he makes me crazy about my future with him.
I crave domestic bliss. We both do.
I swear his love for me keeps me going when I have to deal with this family shit.
And that is one thing ‘they’ can never take away from me.
Homophobia sucks.
It really does.
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