Dear father,
What have you done? It was hard enough on mommy dearest when she found out I would never produce the grandchildren she so sorely desired. A boon in the world of pornography, my taste for pussy has only ever horrified the woman who bore me in her womb for nine long months. As heartbreaking it is to a mother to learn that she has spawned a monster, imagine the sorrow of a mother whose monster will never know a chance to redeem itself in the evolutionary arena through its offspring.
But my dead-end genetics do not end hers, oh no. Big brother will provide. He has always followed the straight and narrow path, with his summa cum laude education and his fancy feast girlfriend. They'll provide the babies, while I'll provide the discordant counterpoint to highlight the bittersweet nature of their life. I'll be the scapegoat and black sheep, he'll be the golden child. My animalistic totems serve as the "other" to his humbling humanness. Certainly I've provided her enough pain for one lifetime, and she was never supposed to suffer like this again.
But you, daddy. You were no product of her labors, you shared the work with her. You built a life together, you were to stand by her in times of thick and thin (whatever that means) and support her in times of difficulty, like the time when I came out, for example. Now that all the chickens have left home to roost, she finds out it was all a lie. The shared delusion you created was always real to her, and you knew that. Who knew that it was a zero sum game in our family? Sexuality is the great equalizer. The imbalance I created by spurning the cock has righted itself by making things, once again, not right for mother.
So now she's moving out of the house you raised your children in together to start her life anew at an age which humans historically never lived long enough to see, and your boyfriend is moving in. No more hiding your secrets, no more will you live a double life. Finally you can join the LGBT activist group I told you about years ago not as a straight ally, but as a gay middle-aged man who has finally came clean with those he cares most about in life.
That must have been hard to do. Vilifying your inner urges for decades, fighting who you really are all for the sake of some artificially constructed social mores about who is allowed to love whom. Times were different when you were my age, people were jailed for such things back then. Suicide is still more common among us queers even today. Society has come a long way toward acceptance of us, and although much of the battle is still left to fight, the tide is with us now. It's just a matter of time, and it's becoming increasingly clear to the world. Now we find our older hidden constituents crawling out of the woodwork to join our swelling ranks.
I never expected that such a glorious march could leave such destruction in its wake. I thought we were doing the right thing. But how can something so right feel so wrong? I love my mother, I never wanted to hurt her, but I saw no other option at first. It was either hurt her or continue dying inside for the rest of my life. I feel the pain of your illusion from both inside and out, and no matter how many times I turn it over, I can find no way out. Your hard-earned wisdom has followed the advice of my youthful ideals, and my world has been carefully turned on its head.
Love and loathing,
your daughter
What have you done? It was hard enough on mommy dearest when she found out I would never produce the grandchildren she so sorely desired. A boon in the world of pornography, my taste for pussy has only ever horrified the woman who bore me in her womb for nine long months. As heartbreaking it is to a mother to learn that she has spawned a monster, imagine the sorrow of a mother whose monster will never know a chance to redeem itself in the evolutionary arena through its offspring.
But my dead-end genetics do not end hers, oh no. Big brother will provide. He has always followed the straight and narrow path, with his summa cum laude education and his fancy feast girlfriend. They'll provide the babies, while I'll provide the discordant counterpoint to highlight the bittersweet nature of their life. I'll be the scapegoat and black sheep, he'll be the golden child. My animalistic totems serve as the "other" to his humbling humanness. Certainly I've provided her enough pain for one lifetime, and she was never supposed to suffer like this again.
But you, daddy. You were no product of her labors, you shared the work with her. You built a life together, you were to stand by her in times of thick and thin (whatever that means) and support her in times of difficulty, like the time when I came out, for example. Now that all the chickens have left home to roost, she finds out it was all a lie. The shared delusion you created was always real to her, and you knew that. Who knew that it was a zero sum game in our family? Sexuality is the great equalizer. The imbalance I created by spurning the cock has righted itself by making things, once again, not right for mother.
So now she's moving out of the house you raised your children in together to start her life anew at an age which humans historically never lived long enough to see, and your boyfriend is moving in. No more hiding your secrets, no more will you live a double life. Finally you can join the LGBT activist group I told you about years ago not as a straight ally, but as a gay middle-aged man who has finally came clean with those he cares most about in life.
That must have been hard to do. Vilifying your inner urges for decades, fighting who you really are all for the sake of some artificially constructed social mores about who is allowed to love whom. Times were different when you were my age, people were jailed for such things back then. Suicide is still more common among us queers even today. Society has come a long way toward acceptance of us, and although much of the battle is still left to fight, the tide is with us now. It's just a matter of time, and it's becoming increasingly clear to the world. Now we find our older hidden constituents crawling out of the woodwork to join our swelling ranks.
I never expected that such a glorious march could leave such destruction in its wake. I thought we were doing the right thing. But how can something so right feel so wrong? I love my mother, I never wanted to hurt her, but I saw no other option at first. It was either hurt her or continue dying inside for the rest of my life. I feel the pain of your illusion from both inside and out, and no matter how many times I turn it over, I can find no way out. Your hard-earned wisdom has followed the advice of my youthful ideals, and my world has been carefully turned on its head.
Love and loathing,
your daughter
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