Announcements

[thessalian]

Tomorrow is all for me. dodgyhoodoo is taking a couple of days in York, coming back Thursday night so that, if things with Mum completely implode during our pre-birthday dinner, he will be on-hand with hugs and things.

I would not normally expect things with Mum to completely implode, but Thursday's kind of a big deal because I will likely wind up telling my mother that I'm a pagan. This is sort of a preparatory move, as some day in the not-all-that-distant future, I hope to marry dodgyhoodoo. General agreement is that we do the legalities at a registry office with no real fanfare, then do the handfasting thing. Problem there is that my mother has no idea that I'm a pagan. In fact, last time I talked to her, she kept insisting that I'm a Christian, even though, hello, not. Not that there's anything wrong with Christianity as a concept, and I'm not going to make light of the faith as a whole, but I'm just ... not one. I don't believe that Jesus was the son of God, which as far as I can see is the primary difference between Christianity and Judaism (you know, New Testament stuff). I don't believe that the Bible has any basis in fact whatsoever, much less is the "Word of God" -- allegory, people; look it up. I don't believe in hell, Leviticus makes me want to vomit, I can't believe any perfect, loving God would send people to hell for all eternity for loving a member of their own gender in a sexual way, and in general, I'm just ... not a Christian. My faith lies in other directions, is all. No big deal. I believe in many gods to reflect the diversity in the world, I believe in an infinite, I believe in life after death that doesn't involve condemnation and judgement, I believe in worship and appreciation of life. That sounds pretty pagan to me.

But Mum doesn't know that. And it seems unreasonable to let her find out about my faith when I invite her to a handfasting instead of a wedding. It seems unfair to announce my faith that way. And so I feel obliged to tell her beforehand. The problem is that my mother refuses to believe anything that doesn't fit in with her views sometimes. She wouldn't believe me when I said I wasn't a Christian; I was raised Christian and I was baptised, therefore I am a Christian as far as she's concerned. Never mind that I was a babe in arms when I was baptised and that only happened because it was the 'done thing' in Quebec, a holdover from the time when the entire province was pretty much Catholic and it was illegal to not be baptised. Never mind the fact that I got put off Christianity for life by that fucking Anglican summer camp where exorcism was deemed to be the solution to hyperactivity and one of the substitute counsellors insisted that some of the girls in my tent were going to hell because they didn't speak English. Never mind that the one church service I've been to in the last two decades creeped me out beyond belief because I can't get past the associations and because the entire thing was all about "Let go and let God" and how He will get you through the tough times (instead of 'God helps those who help themselves', which I'd have preferred). Despite all of that, I'm apparently still a Christian. This from the woman who lost her faith in Catholicism because she couldn't imagine a loving God condemning 'heathens' in remote villages to hell just because the missionaries hadn't found their villages yet.

The problem is, if I do this, there's going to be a fight, I'm almost sure. Mum will say, "But you're a Christian" and I'm going to say, "I've told you this before; I'm not" and then there will be the whole "Don't these people believe in magic?" deal and ... well, I came out of an institution five years ago. Mum always said, and had other people say, that I "lived in a fantasy world" during my childhood and teens (and frankly, I'm not surprised; my childhood sucked rocks and if I preferred books and stories to the kids and adults who screwed me over on a regular basis, I think that's pretty normal, all things considered, and it doesn't seem to have done me any harm). I tell her that I follow a faith that believes in magic and I'm automatically back where I started and it will disappoint her so fucking badly. Plus, you know, the "mother thinking I'm insane" factor really doesn't help any. All told, it's a recipe for disaster, on the day before my birthday, and after that thing four years ago when she ripped into me about manners because I didn't want to take public transport with her and my stepfather after our dinner-and-a-movie outing, I don't think our relationship could take it.

I don't want to do this. I don't want to tell her. But I don't want to hide it either. It's an important part of my life, and I don't want to lie about it, or just stay silent to make life easier. It's not my way. But there is the option of just carrying on as normal, not making a big announcement, and letting her know when the time comes for me to announce a handfasting.

So I'm asking for advice from my lovely friends. Stay silent and let her find out the hard way, or make the announcement and hope she deals with it in a mature manner?

I just wish it didn't have to be so hard. But I suppose it gives me an excuse to use my new "I need a hug" icon.

Comments

[thessalian.livejournal.com]

I'm really not worried about telling her that I'm going to get married, when the time comes. I'm nearly 30, and getting married is a nice, 'normal' thing to do. Not to mention the fact that, all things remaining equal, it'll get rid of that nagging horror leftover from when I told her I was bi-curious.

As for the smoking, she knows -- oh, boy, does she. You know the kind of ex-smoker who turns really evangelical on the subject of quitting? That would be Mum. However, she hates seeing me smoke (my grandmother was a two-pack-a-day smoker and wound up with emphysema and chronic bronchitis, and spent the last year or so of her life on canned oxygen despite giving up) so I don't light up in front of her out of respect.

There's really nothing left to soften the blow, unfortunately. I'm just going to have to take it as it comes, and hope that the amnesty created by the unspoken "we will not have arguments about the way I live my life or I'm just going to cut you out of it again" deal we had when we renewed contact keeps things from getting ugly.