My mother finally got up the balls to private message me.

Here’s a bit of background. My mom has been different levels of abusive and neglectful of me for most of my life. She says she loves me, but her actions rarely prove that.

I’m an expert at recognizing emotional manipulation and gaslighting because of her.

So.

Under my real name, (for anyone in doubt, this is the real ‘me’, I much prefer my chosen name than the one she gave me) the morning after I stayed up all night, horrified while I watched the country of my birth turn the angry orange into president-elect, I told everyone I know via a facebook post that *I* am queer. That I was distraught because even though they’d ‘known’ about me, even though we’re mixed race, so many ‘even thoughs’ they still elected that creature into office. I called them out for their bigotry.

It’s not that I’ve been hiding, I’ve been ‘out’ to my mother and father since I was around 16, any one who bothered to spend time and talk to me over the years also knew I was queer. As long as I kept quiet about it, my family and friends didn’t care much. Since I eventually fell in love with, married, had kids with and continue to live with a man they’re happy enough to just continue brushing who I am under the rug.

They don’t care that I could just as easily have fallen in love with a woman, that I’ve had female lovers who I loved and would have spent my life with if things had worked out.

All is about appearances to them and that has never been more clear to me than right this second.

As long as I pass, and don’t say anything to the rest of the people I know who are bigoted, racist, nasty minded people, they’re fine ignoring it and saying they love me.

My mom argued with me, publicly, on my FB excusing everyone who voted for Frump, which, I learned today included her. She got butt hurt and pissy when people pointed out the things Frump has done. When my friends stood up for me and called her on her bullshit (she was being her standard emotionally manipulative self).

I posted a few articles, explaining why I and people like me are so fucking terrified of the angry orange.

Of why it hurts so much to know that close to half the voters who turned out, either hate us enough to vote for that man, or are willing to overlook what he clearly stands for enough to still vote him in.

Of how we feel betrayed. And why.

She accused me of being elitist today, because I enjoy spelling and grammar and looking things up.

She said ‘not everyone likes to research things like you do’. (Turning on the news isn’t ‘research’ applying an iota of thought to that mans actions isn’t expecting much.)

Especially when your daughter is queer.

Even now, the worst part of what I did, *to her* is using the word ‘queer’ to define myself.

It’s the one that fits me best, because I’m more than one of the letters of the QUILTBAG.

Her reaction was as if I’d mooned everyone in church. Lol, I wish I had mooned everyone in church so long ago. That would have been freaking hilarious.

Her words exactly were “Did you have to use the word queer? Isn’t there a better word you could have used? You have no idea what you’ve done. I’ve had to explain why you’re like you are for days.”

Explain why I am the way I am.

After 40 years of one kind of abuse or another from that woman, you’d think I’d be used to being hurt, or inured to it. Guess I’m not.

Cause that hurt.

I’ll get over it, on the scale of things she’s done to me over the years that ranks pretty middle of the road.

She cursed me, saying she hopes my children as much smarter than me as I am to she.

I take it as a blessing. I hope desperately that my children are wise, loving beings who see humanity as a beautiful quilt, stitched together with kindness and understanding. Different pieces of one whole that keeps everyone warm. I’m certainly going to raise them to be accepting of differences. Hopefully, from me, they’ll learn to apply their minds to any sort of inherited prejudice or hatred they pick up from society.

I pray my children are smarter than me, kinder than me, more empathic than me.

And I pray that tomorrow doesn’t hurt so badly. Cause right now I’m so damned tired of hurting.