• Posted By Crazy Single Mom @ 8:59 PM • • •
Friday, June 24, 2005
A long post inspired by a bumper sticker
I saw a bumper sticker today, it said "it's better to be hated for what you are, then loved for what you are not". I thought it quite catchy, then I actually stopped to think of the words. On the same car was a rainbow sticker, signifying they are gay. I started to think about some of my gay friends and what they have had to do to get along in this world. One still has not come out to her family, for fear that they would reject her, as they are fundamental Christians. Would it be better for her to be truthful to herself and be hated by her family? Or is living a lie the best thing for her? She's not truly happy, because she doesn't see her family much for fear they will "out" her. Her partner isn't happy, they've been together two years and still can't share a house for fear of the reprisal from her family. Should she grasp this loving relationship she has and lose her family, or continue as she is and risk losing her relationship. Is it better to be hated for what you are then loved for what you are not?
Another friend of mine came out, and lives a full life, but without the support of his family. He deals with this by a shell of indifference to his family, but I know it hurts him. In a way he's only half truthful because he still pretends that his families reaction doesn't bother him. His partner, has a family that accepts whole-heartedly. I think this also bothers the other one for he sees how it could be.
All this was thought while sitting in traffic. I know which way I would go, I would be truthful, because I have lived a lie before, and it's never good. My first marriage on the outside was good, he was good looking, personable, and in public, we were always "together". At home, it was another story, I lived in fear of what he would find wrong in my day. I lived in fear of his mood, which I was supposed to guess when I came through the door at night. He belittled me every chance he could. I have been a big gal most of my adult life, and he told me many times that no one would ever want me so I'd better stick with him. I believed it after a while, so I kept my anguish inside. In public I smiled, in private I died a little each day. It all came to a head one day, when my best friend came to visit. She and I walked the beach, and I could tell she was not happy. I asked her finally what was the matter. She turned to me and said, "Nina where are you? I look at you, but it's NOT you, where did you go?" I got mad, very mad. I yelled what the hell, I'm right here, and she yelled back and told me no I wasn't, that I was just a shell, a made up thing that my husband had created, but the "me", that which made me "Nina", was gone or so far buried she was afraid she would never see me again. I cried. I realized she was right. I had lived a lie so long I started to believe it, but the essence of who I was atrophied. After our walk, she hugged me, and told me that when I was ready to end this lie, she would be there. She told me if I needed to get away, she would be there. But until I was ready, she couldn't be there, because she would be with a corpse. Harsh words many of you may say, but they were the only words that penetrated. I left him a few weeks later. We were already living in CT, and I didn't know how I would survive so far from my family. I got an apartment, very small, very rundown, but very cheap. I left with the clothes on my back, my beat up car, and about 30 dollars. I was running from him to save myself.
He found me. Up to this point, his abuse was all psychological. When he found me he begged me to come back, I said no. He yelled at me to come back, I said no again. He threatened me, I still said no. He slapped me, and hit me, I still said NO, and then told him if he layed a hand on me again I'd hit him back with my iron, which was the only thing handy at the time. He called me a c---, a bitch, then told me I would NEVER find anyone to love me again.
I did, even though they did not last, and now I have Princess, who loves me forever. It took me a long time to come back to myself, but I did and am stronger now than ever before. I lost some friends, regained others, and made new ones. My parents didn't understand, they still believed the lie.
So that's why I know I would rather be hated for what I am, then loved for what I am not. When you live a lie, you lose a part of yourself, and sometimes, you can never get it back. I am strong now, but I am not the "me" I was years ago, I have lost the capacity to trust deeply, and I miss that at times. But I no longer live in fear, and I live truthfully. I wouldn't trade that for anything!
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