I thought about what to say the whole afternoon, trying to wrap my head around what was going on. It was just another mundane day at work, but the path to it was much different than usual.
The night before I had gone to an Italian restaurant for dinner and belly dance with mom, aunt, and out-of-town uncle and cousin. My wife was also there – at mom’s invitation. (Yes, I am now married – I really should fill you in on what had happened during my writing absences). Even though Mom is suspicious of my relationship and my orientation, we wanted to take the chance to dine together with family.
Just two weeks prior, when I made a trip back home Mom handed me a book titled “Out of a Far Country: A Gay Son’s Journey to God – A Broken Mother’s Search for Hope” and suggested for me to read it. The author, who is now a minister, came to her church to speak and talk about his journey from gay, drug-dealing, HIV positive Asian guy to ex-con minister. When I received the book I was skeptical, but also surprised at her forwarded-ness. I never thought she’d be the one taking a step to approach this touchy subject. Who knows, maybe after hearing Christopher Yuan speak she really had changed. I kept my positivity throughout my reading, curious to find out if the author is still gay. For me, his journey was interesting (yet nothing short of conventional except the gay factor); and I was only concerned with one thing – the outcome of reaching holiness for a homosexual: will he remain gay? If so, what has really changed other than his spirituality? Or will he be ‘converted’ straight, so to speak? Because, c’mon, let’s face it – you will never be ‘converted’ one way or the other; if you’re gay you’re always gay… Otherwise I call bullshit. And if you’re straight let me check again once you’ve had more than enough to drink (kidding!).
To my surprise, the book ended on a ‘sort-of’ note. He is practicing “holy sexuality” – in other words, abstinence for the sake of God and holy spirituality. In all fairness, he’s probably had more than enough 8-hr bathhouse sessions to last him a lifetime. He clearly states that homosexuality is not a choice, but at the same time we should deny ourselves sexual feelings (be it homosexual or heterosexual). He is now celibate and does not consider himself gay or straight.
Even though according to Yuan’s definitions, I am still sinning (for acting on my homosexual feelings), I felt a little victorious after finishing the book. It gave me hope that my mom would somehow understand me. So I turned on my laptop and pulled up a letter intended for my mother I drafted more than 3 weeks ago. I started writing a new version, in Mandarin. In it I addressed the fact that I am more attracted to the same sex, and no matter how hard I tried to avoid or shake it, the only way to make things better is to feel; to let it be. I believe that love is love; love is beyond gender. I told her that I do not conform to the social binary norms that exist in society today. I asked for her forgiveness and understanding for being so ‘rebellious’ or, in my head, independent; and hoped for better communication and relationship between the two of us.
By the time dinner reservations rolled around, I was still at my place finishing the hand-written letter that I had planned to give to her at the end of the night, when I returned her book. Dinner was accompanied by belly dance performances as entertainment, then followed by an open-floor where people got up and danced. We were aware of my mom’s hawk eyes spying on us as if we’re prey while we boogied with my uncle and other patrons at the restaurant. We experienced the same, hateful, watchful eyes just about a month ago, on a night out, when we were followed by a vehicle under the operation of my mother. We called her out on it, but she denied the whole thing. Last night was no different: she stared and despised.
After parting ways with my family at the entrance of the parking lot and handing my mom the careful, thought-out letter, I waited anxiously for a response. I was expecting everything from angry e-mails to hateful phone calls, but what I got threw me off the tracks.
She had sent in her replies via e-mail, which I didn’t see until the morning. It was short and concise but hurtful and infuriating. She was clear to make the distinction that attraction to the same-sex and reproducing for the next generation is totally different. She told me she was disappointed in me when I decided to leave home for work, when I moved out, or when I was absent in her life. She said that she doesn’t feel inadequate, though she felt she had failed my father. Then she followed up with two questions in two short e-mails: 1) have I ever been involved with anyone (read: have I had sex, or more bluntly, am I still a virgin); and 2) have I ‘corrected’ my relationship with God?
I suppose you could say that her response fell within my expectations. I hate to admit that I actually had high(er) hopes for a better outcome, but to follow up with those two questions really upset me. She had completely missed the points I was addressing! Why does who I’ve been involved with matter? So what if I was a virgin? Would she then accept me? And for what, being ‘pure’? What if I wasn’t? Am I then condemned eternally? Am I filthier than dirt? My relationship with God is obviously non-existent at the moment, and I really don’t think I can have one if I were to act on my homosexual feelings. I thought I made that clear by stating I chose to let myself go, to “cut off the ropes that were holding me back”. Perhaps I used a language too metaphorical to understand.
I held back tears on the skytrain after reading her e-mails. A mix of anger and sadness overwhelmed me. I couldn’t find words to address her questions. I really didn’t know what to say to make her see the ‘light’. I felt that my letter was useless. She still hasn’t accepted me, nor has she grasped what I was trying to say.
The whole day at work was amiss; not to mention my head -and my relationship with my family- is still a mess.
Where's My Dime? 