I moved to New York City a month ago. And although it has been really fun, I’ve had to hear about the messy, bitter old bitches back home.
My father and my two older brothers.
Last month, there were two features published about me, and in one I specifically mentioned rape. The significance of sharing that was to emphasize my openness with my readers. Because I am at my most vulnerable and honest when writing on my blog.
I highlighted the blog “Me, Too” in the feature and hours later my views were up for that post. The post is two years old and has been read thousands of times. I didn’t think anything about it when mentioning it because the story has been out.
That particular event is a slight moment in my beautiful life. A moment that I’ve not allowed to control or change how I treat people, how I love people and my ability to create relationships with new people. I haven’t let it define me and until I posted that story on my blog, I never told or talked about it with anyone.
My mom found out 5 minutes before posting it and I did that only because I know she reads my blogs. I don’t feel any way about it. Me sharing my truth allowed other people to confide in me. People from around the world with similar situations who’ve shared their lives’ experiences with someone they’ve never met. I created a space for others to feel seen and be safe. Because contrary to popular belief, men and boys are raped and sexually assaulted too.
Anywho… Can’t say the same for my father and brothers. Instead of my “family” reaching out to me, they chose to confront my mom because she didn’t tell them. Thomas Sr. expected my mom to tell him, although they don’t talk, and I’ve had several conversations with my father about boundaries and staying out of my business. Even though he doesn’t respect it or me, my mom does. I don’t have the same relationships with both of my parents. I don’t talk to my dad.
My older brothers are homophobic and while it doesn’t bother me most of the times. I just find it weird that I’m always a topic of discussion. I think they want to be me. They’re obsessed with me and my life. Unfortunately for them, they’re stuck in their lives. I think the biggest issue besides my sexuality is me being the “reason” for my parents’ divorce. Because to them, their father cheating on their mom was not enough for her to divorce him. I’m the reason for their father’s pain and suffering. I’m the reason that their lives are no longer the same. ME!
Yesterday, my brother decided to go on a diatribe about me and a traumatic event that I experienced in front of people who were not privy to that information. Exposing my YOUNG nieces and nephew to my personal business, making fun of rape in front of CHILDREN and my brother-in-law. Not liking me is one thing, but I feel like it’s a lot more than dislike. These people realllllllly hate me! Mainly, my oldest brother.
They can’t stand to see me happy, thriving and living my best life while they’re home being miserable. I get to wake up every morning and LIVE MY DREAMS while they have to do what they HAVE to do and not what they WANT to do. I would be mad if I was y’all too :/.
You three don’t ever have to worry about me. There is never a need for us to speak. You three no longer have any space in my life.
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