This year is the third consecutive year I got to join the Seattle Pride festival in order to offer “mom hugs” to the LGBTQIA+ community. Some months ago, a dear friend texted me and said she wanted to join me this year. She has recently experienced very similar challenges with friends and family since her daughter has come out, and she wanted to show her support as a mom. I was so happy to have her along, because she has played a special role in my life. I would love to tell you more about her.
Kathy is a person who personifies welcome. I met her many years ago now at my very first Kindlingsfest. Kindlingsfest was a very unique experience. It was a gathering on Orcas Island that brought together Christians, artists, theologians, and intellectuals who were able to have hospitable conversations about God, culture and why it all matters. I credit my experience at these festivals with my ability to have kept my faith at all, because they gave me a lens that was broad and beautiful and free.
I honestly don’t remember the year, but Chris had discovered this “ministry” through a relationship with Kathy’s husband, who founded this Kindlings experience. We lived in Indiana at the time, but Chris eagerly signed us up for this first Kindlingsfest. I had become a listener of the podcasts that were the foundation of the ministry, “The Kindlings Muse,” and I was excited to attend as well. Chris ended up having to do a work thing that week, however, and I invited my sister in law to join me. I was nervous about what this experience would be like, but I did not need to be. Kathy was there, and she welcomed my sister in law and me immediately. We were not as important as many others in attendance, but that did not matter to Kathy.
That year was the beginning of a solid friendship that has never wavered. I also have grown close to one of Kathy’s daughters, and their family is one that is refreshing and fun and real. Being near them has been one of the best gifts of living in the Pacific Northwest. They are a model of curiosity and kindness, while they pursue the hope that we are created and loved.
My first trip to Orcas Island after Cailin came out, I was in a shop downtown. Orcas is a small place, and it was not the first time that Kathy walked in to find me visiting her island unannounced. We were happy to see each other, and she did what she always does. She started eagerly asking me about the kids. Cailin was in college, and Kathy asked, “Is she dating anyone?” I am not a good liar, and Kathy totally read my hesitancy around how to respond. “Is she gay?” she excitedly asked with a huge smile.
That moment is one I have remembered often. It was such a gift in an extremely lonely time. I was on the cusp of a very difficult season of relationship loss, and I was dreading the inevitable. Her enthusiasm for my kid’s uniqueness breathed life into me that has continued to be a source of healing.
She quickly understood that I had complicated feelings, and she said, “I am sorry. This is probably hard for you. Let me give you a hug!” She hugged me and told me about these two friends of theirs, guys who were married with two little boys. She showed me the adorable pictures, and her celebratory tone brought trust. She and her family would remain friends on this long journey we were embarking.
It brings tears as I write, these 6 or so years later, on the other side of so many friendships that are no more. But Kathy and her family are friends who have remained. And in June I attended her daughter’s wedding to an incredible lady; and she also is experiencing some of the pain that we have, because she fully supports her; and I now have the opportunity to remain a friend who is excited for her kids.
And this Seattle Pride Festival, with all of its colorful people, got to experience my friend’s deep well of love and support as she hugged them tightly. I hope it’s something that can happen many more times. Because more people need Kathy’s in their lives.
When Kathy wasn’t dealing out hugs, she was supporting our church by handing out stickers and getting to know people.Ready for Pride 2024
I imagine if you are at all invested in my blogposts and if you are at all affiliated with the church, you may feel like sitting ducks. Believe it or not, I am the last person that would want to be the cause of that feeling in you. I wanted to take this breather between “Dear Church” posts to say that while I have been busy, I have not been in a hurry to put that next post out. I typically prefer to behave myself, and sharing the next post feels a little like talking back to my Mama. And that didn’t fly in our house! 🙂
I am a bit of a chicken, but I also think it is OK to sit on my feelings for awhile and consider others. Man, emotions are SO heightened these days, and it is easy to want to react versus sit and take a minute. We are so quick to jump into whatever camp we feel most comfortable in, instead of leaving space for the challenges that the folks on the other side might be going through. So, I have been mulling over how my post might have been difficult for some. I also wonder how many will even read another post. But it really does not matter. I put these thoughts out in case they are helpful, and I hope they are. It does take courage, and courage takes time. That is probably the main reason for the delay. This is not the next scary post, but a pause for additional thoughts.
My sincere hope is that anyone willing to read would know that my intent is not to be mean or hurtful. It is hard to have someone accuse you of wrong, especially if you feel like you are sacrificing what feels good to do the right thing. I know my generalizing of the church may have been hard to take, because of this truth. Ironically, I completely understand and have also felt this sentiment. It was not my intent to generalize or assume that all church attendees were in the group that was causing harm. My hope, though, is to reach some people who are curious or don’t know, who may be open to discover what is hurtful and what is not.
Thoughts within thoughts
One thing I have found interesting is this. I suspect that if I had been quiet about my position of support for my daughter and her wife, I would have experienced something very different from the church friends. My daughter could be herself, and live her life; and I could probably even be in wedding photos. I feel fairly certain that it is the “loud” support that has created problems for myself. I really struggle with this reality and would like to be wrong about it. I understand that celebrating sin is not cool. I would never celebrate a murder or abusive behavior. Some may feel that my support is the same as doing that. That is an extreme example, but I think many communities I have been a part of would equate my support with supporting a heinous crime.
One of the books I read in my journey was God and the Gay Christian, by Matthew Vines. I read the last chapter where the author, who had same sex attraction AND loved the Bible, pleaded with those willing to support to support loudly. I felt compelled to do so, though it took me awhile. Courage takes time. He really felt the pain of not being allowed to serve in ministry and not even being able to darken the door of some churches, due to his honesty about who he was. Would he have been welcome to serve if he had stayed closeted? Most definitely.
This is similar to the conflict I encounter when I am open about my support. If I kept it secret, I would be welcome in all my old circles of friendship and service. But my integrity keeps me from those relationships. This is really something, isn’t it? I don’t feel it makes a lick of sense. But it is what it is.
Ok, I’ll try to get my nerve up to share my now VERY edited letter to the church :). I know it won’t be as cool as Peter or Paul’s. Take a deep breath, church people. And remember, I love y’all! AND when I am not out of town, I still go to church :).
The Church in Leon, Spain. Just one of many cathedrals we saw on our Camino journey last year.
Traveling across Spain on foot gave lots of time for taking in the amazing cathedrals. They were awe inspiring with their grandeur, and I found myself curious about the unbelievable time, talent, and treasure that had been invested in these works of art.
I found myself wondering why? Were they concerned that God would not be pleased with anything less? Did they want to show the power of religion? Were they wanting to make sure that this cathedral measured up to the one down the road? Or why am I judging? Maybe they just wanted church to be fantastically beautiful to invite in the hurting, giving them hope that something that grand had to have power to heal. I know seeing a church as we crested a hill at the end of a long walking day, kinda gave me that feeling on my Camino.
Whatever the reasons, am grateful for the time, talent, and treasure invested. Walking through the vast time capsules that were these cathedrals was nothing less than a gift to me and others, these centuries later. They are stunning.
I imagine that modern church leaders discuss the nature of church buildings in similar ways. They may need them to have a big stage with fog machines, or they may focus on the practical with chairs that connect easily. I expect they want to be more inviting than austere, feeling warmer with their coffee shop vibes.
I like inviting. I was part of a church that I loved dearly where the pastor said that he wanted the atmosphere to be comfortable until you were in your seat. Then he felt the church leaders were responsible to work with God to bring transformation, which is not often comfortable. I appreciated this sentiment at the time. I felt I needed transformation, and assumed everyone else did too.
Another past pastor of mine used to say that he wanted people to be glad, at their funeral, that he was their pastor. He also clearly felt responsible to guide others on the correct path. I also feel this responsibility too, if I am honest. I think growing up a preacher’s kid gave me this sense of needing to help people toward the blessed life.
I wonder what it feels like to attend one of these cathedrals. Is it comfortable? It is a place of transformation? Is it the responsibility of the pastors and priests to invite us into comfort or conviction?
I used to believe so, but after some curious thinking I am less sure.
It must be a tremendous burden to feel responsible for all of those people. For the corrupt person, it could also support a tremendous feeling of power. Is this what being “called” looks like? Teaching people how to live? I wonder if there are things that are missing or even wrong in this structure called “church.” There seem to be lots of things spoken that are not demonstrated, things like “the greatest of these is love,” or “how can he say to his brother, ‘let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the while he has a plank in his own eye.” It can be hard to reconcile, and I understand all too clearly the challenge.
My family has gone through stuff. We have traveled the lonely path of being very involved in a church, then subsequently embracing a life of loving and fully supporting our lesbian daughter. Our daily life probably looks similar to any other privileged, white family. I try to love others well and live an intentional life, caring for myself and those around me; yet this has been a season of grief and loss of nearly all of our early church community.
I remember the echo chambers of the large, albeit beautiful cathedrals. I remember being in my modern echo chamber of a sanctuary and nodding my head, feeling so accomplished in my Christian successes. My husband was a Sunday School teacher, and taught challenging and thoughtful lessons. I remember our last Sunday there, before we moved away. I remember individuals in our class recounting all our valuable traits that they were going to miss. They mentioned the example of our lives, and how much they appreciated our friendship. We poured so much into that community, and loved them all so much.
I have always wanted to write a letter to them. I wonder why we have not heard much from most of them, since our daughter came out. We had a journey, that was not easy, of tears, searching, confusion, etc. as we navigated how to respond to our precious child. It would have been really nice to have some of those old friends reach out in support. When we did hear from them it was in urging us to change our position. That added shame to an already difficult time.
I know time also can affect relationships. We have all traveled a hard road through a pandemic and the divisions that came because of a vaccine. And amidst the sickness came some powerful moments of pain, as we saw again and again, Black people dying unnecessarily by the force of racism. And all of it is made political, including how to handle the LGBTQ community. https://respectfullycurious.com/did-covid-steal-your-relationships/
It has been 4 years since we were honest about our position on embracing the LGBTQ community. Time has been kind for those we have kept in close proximity with– our family and a few dear friends have been able to find a way to love us. But for many of our early church community, time has not been kind. It has allowed assumptions about who we now are and how we now live to fester. When we have revisited those friendships, we have felt the toxic void of proximity.
Next I will share my hardest post yet. My body fears it. It is not a theological treatise, but my heart’s response after yet another recent, deep wound from those who used to be our closest friends.
Dear Church,
Please consider the damage. Perhaps it is time to move from our austere places of worship, inviting or not, to life on life, with respectful curiosity and humility.
This is at the Seattle Pride Parade about a month ago. Do we look happy? We are. We have been through the backlash of shifting our perspective, and we have survived. We have more grey hair; our bodies are rounder; but we are not looking back. This picture was taken after I hugged approximately 100 people who are part of the LGBTQ+ community. I wrote a post about it last year as well https://respectfullycurious.com/do-you-have-a-superpower-are-you-using-it/. I do not know if there is any exercise that feels more spiritual than giving these marginalized people a huge squeeze, while telling them that they are loved and celebrated. It is a huge privilege, and I do not take lightly that these folks are open to a hug from a random mom.
But now back to the story.
Family
After Cailin came out to her siblings we decided together it was time to “come out” to the extended family and friends. We called our parents and siblings. We live across the country, so in person was not an easy option. In hindsight, we probably made many mistakes in this space; but we did the best we knew at the time.
I’ll never forget that day. Having all of those conversations was really hard. We empathized with our family members, remembering what it was like to be “on the other side” without having reason to explore anything different. Our ability to consolidate the previous year and a half of prayer and processing into words was limited and lacking I’m sure. I imagine they felt a bit blindsided and disappointed that we did not give them opportunity to contribute more to the process. However, we had navigated it the only way we knew how. We were not willing to compromise Cailin’s privacy, and it had been a really challenging season for us. We only had capacity to hunker down and work together, just us and Cailin and God. Too many voices in that space is overwhelming, and we were overwhelmed already. If ya know, ya know.
For the most part after that day we felt loved by our families. I am very grateful for the kindness our family has shown us, and we have few negative memories of those conversations. I’m sure we mostly survived them. I do remember we ordered deep dish pizza for dinner and watched “Derry Girls” that evening. We wanted comfort food and something funny to lift us out of our feels.
Since that difficult day nearly 4 years ago (it was Labor Day, 2019, I think), we have been through many challenging interactions with well-meaning people. After our initial communication, we had a number of responses that were difficult, including phone calls, letters, emails, etc. Some of the things that were said to us we will never forget, because they really hurt. We have had ups, like the above picture at the parade; and we have had downs, each time we have someone reach out with “concerns”. We are constantly learning and growing, hopefully in love and grace and forgiveness. But it is not always easy, and we are trying to remain respectfully curious.
I will write one more post (I think :)) on this topic. Adding to this one would make it too long. Thank you for reading. I hope my experience encourages you to be more respectfully curious about the humans in your world.
After the Pride Parade! Drinks and snacks with some of our favorites!
These photos are from August 19, 2019, thanks to http://www.danilalondephoto.com/. I remember how special they were, as it felt like an important time to capture how we were all doing. Cailin was planning to come out publicly soon, and we were wanting to publicly share our support of her shortly after. The first step was for her to come out to her siblings. Chris and I were very nervous.
I remember the day well. It was a Sunday afternoon in early August. Cailin invited Jaron and Bethany to go get Starbucks with her. Chris and I sat in the living room, with the lights off, dreading the possible outcomes. We discussed in trepidation how we thought it might go. This was the most weighty conversation for us, even though we were not part of it. If you are a parent, you know the desire to see your kids getting along well. The anticipation of a possible lifelong rift felt terrifying.
Chris and I often reminisce about that day, remembering what came next. The kids were gone for a short time, maybe 20 minutes. We heard the car pull up, and we were dying to know how it went while also dreading it. We sat in anticipation, looking anxiously at one another. The next moments were like going from the forest of doom into a field of flowers accompanied by a choir of angels! Seriously, it was dramatic! We heard our kids laughter as they walked up the steps to the front door. We smiled at one another. We exhaled. The biggest hurdle was done.
Once Cailin had left, we talked to Jaron and Bethany separately. We felt it was important to check in with them and let them know that they did not have to agree with the position that we had come to. We were willing to navigate the challenges of disagreement within a family. Let’s be real, it is likely to occur over and over, so why not start now? But no need yet. Jaron and Bethany both had precious responses when we asked them what they were thinking. They both said something similar to, “Well, we are definitely not surprised, as Cailin has never been interested in boys. And we do not claim to know all the reasons why she should or shouldn’t live a particular way. We love her and don’t have a problem with it.” This was music to our ears for so many reasons. We are so proud of our kids and grateful for the gracious people that they continue to be.
I think the above picture is a really good indication of where my relationship with Cailin was at this point. It felt a bit awkward. It may appear like I just jumped easily into the affirming camp with my newfound knowledge, turning off all my previous beliefs. That was not the case. As I mentioned in my last post: https://respectfullycurious.com/curious-about-knowing-part-2/ I am a people pleaser. My mom would tell you I was a very compliant child, and I liked “behaving” my way into approval from everyone. But that was all getting ready to fall to sh*t!
But also, the awkward feelings were real, because I had never been so close to a gay person before. And not just any gay person, this was my daughter! Even after a year it was a passage for me to learn how to love her. I wish I could say it was natural to embrace Cailin fully. I think especially because of my need to fit into the “approved of” space, it was hard. I expect she felt that. We need a new photo 😁.
This photo seems less awkward to me, but I have not asked Chris if he had similar challenges to mine. I doubt he did. He is less inclined to let as much bother him, and I am grateful. Our little family was intact, and that was the most important thing for us. I would get past my awkward phase.
The next “coming out” would be a big one for us, and would be costly.
In thinking about the “start” of this journey of mine, I felt the need to connect with my daughter to confirm that my memories were accurate, and to hear from her about her experience with such “knowledgable” parents 😅. It gave me an excuse to hang out with her on a beautiful afternoon while she tended to her booth. She sells stuff! Check out her website http://www.cailinrenee.com.
She straightened me out on a couple details of my previous post, and we just reminisced a bit. I asked her if there were things that loomed large in her memory, positive or negative. One positive that she shared was that we encouraged her to find a therapist, and we let her choose which one. I had been seeing a therapist for a few years by this point, and we had seen the value of therapy for any and everyone!! I was glad that was a positive experience, and therapy is still a valuable thing for our family! Cailin is now herself a therapist, helping young people through their own challenges! https://www.restresiliencerecovery.com/
Another thing she remembered was her dad saying that he was 95% sure about where he stood on LGBTQ matters, and he did not expect that his perspective would change on the topic. He delivered this graciously, albeit honestly; and he also is learning all that he did not really know. In fact, he is taking leadership this PRIDE month at his place of work, and I am so proud of his “out” leadership in this space!
Another thing we discussed was why I was even sharing this stuff? It is really personal stuff, and it is risky to throw such vulnerable experiences and memories to the public. She related as she also has put herself “out there” in posts, but we also discussed the value of contributing toward a more vulnerable humanity –thank you, Brene Brown, for bringing value to vulnerability! http://www.brenebrown.com
Ok, now to the rest of the story…well not the rest, but to the next bit. After Cailin came out, I launched into research mode. I had done all I had known to do to raise kids who would fit into the mold I knew was correct. Now my kid tells me that she doesn’t fit that mold. Wait. What?
I needed to make sense of some things.
I need to explain what, in hindsight, I realize was happening in my body– a little thing known as a stressor. I had built my safe little kingdom in my family, that created a space where I was viewed positively. (What people think is important to me– I admit, too important.) Our family was an example of a pretty pristine evangelical family, and we had the community to back that up. Also, I had a view of how my kids’ lives were going to work out, thanks to our guardrails of knowing. The new realization that I had a gay child challenged all of those things. My response to this “threat” to my “safety” was to pursue more knowing. I needed to get back my high place of knowledge and regain my comfort.
I started with the book Torn, by Justin Lee. It was the first experience I had with learning about someone who had grown up with same sex attraction, without any sexual abuse, in a Christian, loving environment. It was the first book that opened me up to all I did NOT know in this LGBTQ+ space. Check it out here: https://geekyjustin.com/books/torn/
Secondly, I read a book called People to Be Loved, by Preston Sprinkle. It was helpful, because it was a pretty sophisticated treatment of the 6 verses in the Bible that deal with same sex behaviors. Also, the author was non-affirming, so I could learn from someone that I felt I could more easily trust. Check it out here: https://theologyintheraw.com/blog/2016/5/6/people-to-be-loved/
I also consumed podcasts by Q Ideas. Their podcasts claim to, “educate and equip Christians to engage our cultural moment.” I listened to a few of their current episodes that dealt with LGBTQ+ topics, and appreciated their seeming ability to be cool with the LGBTQ community but also stand on the non-affirming side. However, before too long, I found myself bored with ideas that were pointing to the non-affirming stance. I was in that camp for my whole 42 years of existence. I knew it. These sources were giving some interesting attempts at showing what my relationship with Cailin could look like, but it was lacking. Q Ideas Podcast here : https://qpodcast.libsyn.com/
Somewhere during this time I discovered a podcast by B.T. Harman called Blue Babies Pink. I loved hearing his voice as he bravely and vulnerably shared his experience of growing up a preacher’s kid and discovering his same sex attraction. Outside of the story of his sexual orientation, I really related to some of his questions that he asked himself throughout his journey. He seemed to be really trying to do the right thing, and understand what God wanted from him. I related to this. This podcast was really helpful in validating that I was not an indecent human for going on this journey. There were other solid, Christian people struggling with the narratives that we were supposed to just accept as truth. B.T.’s podcast is probably the resource I share most often, because I truly believe EVERYONE should listen to it, especially if you grew up Christian. Check it out here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/blue-babies-pink/id1201971435
I want to pause here and explain what was happening in our family at this time. We were communicating with one of our elder family members and one of our other “couple friends”, who was going through a similar experience. Outside of that, we were keeping the whole thing to ourselves . Chris and I did not even tell our other kids. It was summer 2018, and we would not tell other family or friends until September of 2019. It was a very lonely time.
Cailin was attending school at UW, and we began meeting her in Seattle for dinner each Monday night. We were having something of a “LGBTQ book club,” learning with her. She shared with me at our recent debrief that she has friends who think we were “too much” in doing this. I imagine it does appear very controlling, but we did not force her to do it. We asked if she would be willing, and she was. I do admit, with regret, that we did not trust her to figure this out without us. I think our fears did incline us to want to be overly involved in it all, but she was so gracious. I think she was glad we were willing to learn. We also consumed any material that she sent our way. All that to say, we were all in a season of learning together; so many of these resources I am sharing were ones we read or listened to as part of that journey. I want to reemphasize that she was so kind with us in this whole process. I often mention in various posts her patience with us. She had already done years of research alone to bring her to the place of being comfortable with coming out. So, coming along with us on our journey was really a gift to us that we are really grateful for.
The next book I remember was God and the Gay Christian by Matthew Vines. We learned about Matthew Vines in a podcast that Cailin had shared with us, and he, like B.T. struck me as someone humble and willing to do whatever God called him to, in spite of his attraction to men. His book is a step further than Preston Sprinkle’s with regard to understanding the Bible on the topic. I think it was this book that made it very clear to me that I no longer could “know” it was wrong to be gay. I now felt convinced that the Scriptures were not as clear on the subject as I had originally thought. And I felt I could trust this guy, who had done so much work just to be at peace with his own existence. It made me sad that he had to do that work, and I had no business telling him he was wrong. He also encouraged me to advocate for my LGBTQ+ friends, because it was a really hard journey, especially as a Christian. Check out his book on his website here: https://matthewvines.com/
At this point I was further down the path of affirmation than Chris was. I remember the season where we were in different places, and it felt horrible. I remember when he was not sure if he could attend our daughter’s wedding. I really felt like that would be a deal breaker for me, and I hoped and prayed that we would come back to a place of agreement. I remember hearing Preston Sprinkle, the non-affirming author mentioned above, on his podcast advise parents to attend their gay children’s weddings if they wanted to remain in relationship. That was a relationship breaker for many that he had observed. I could not imagine not supporting this part of Cailin’s life, and I could not imagine watching her dad choose a different path. Thankfully, as I said at the beginning, it did not come to that, and Chris is one of Cailin’s BIGGEST advocates! Phew!!
It is time to share that the summer of 2018 was one of much prayer, probably more intense than I had previously participated in. I remember praying nightly, for many months, “Show me Your ways, God. Bring me clarity in this space.” I did not know anymore what I had thought I’d known. That tower of certainty had been wrecked. I had enough evidence from people on both sides of the argument for me to believe that the Bible did not say what I thought. And if it did not say those things, why could I not fully support my daughter. I knew that I could.
I read more books. Gay Girl, Good God, by Jackie Hill Perry; How We Sleep at Night, by Sara Cunningham; Unclobber, by Colby Martin; and more recently Heavy Burdens, by Bridget Eileen Rivera. I appreciated them all. Check them out here:
I still like to consume things from both sides of the argument, but I now fully support the LGBTQ+ community with conviction. Why? What if I am wrong? I may be. I know now that I do not always know. I do not believe any of us fully know. It makes sense to me that not knowing leaves room for the faith, the hope, and the love that I have always assumed was necessary. If I know, why do I ever need to wonder, or be curious, or lean on something or someone bigger? I have consumed a-lot of information, and I continue to do so. This should lead me to knowing, right? But I find that the more I learn, the more I understand how hard it is to fully know. This feels honest. This feels open. This feels less arrogant. This provides space that humanity and God still have much to teach me. It actually is a relief, that I do not have to know all the things. But I get to fully love, embrace, and walk alongside ALL kinds of humans and learn from them too!
Fair warning. I am going to write about my experience as a mother of a beautiful lesbian over this Pride month, as I have time. I hope it will give others a glimpse into our experience and help nourish more understanding in a space that frankly, needs more perspectives.
Five years ago my daughter came out to me as gay, June 2018 (I wish I remembered the exact date). I have been thinking about this for weeks, and contemplating how my life has changed drastically since that moment.
I was comfortable in what I “knew,” from becoming a parent with her birth. I “knew” how to schedule feed her, so she would get a good night’s sleep– she slept through the night at 6 weeks. I “knew” how to teach her to memorize Bible verses, so she would subconsciously have a heart bent toward God (yes, we have videos). I “knew” how to teach her to read and write, although I remember her frustration and mine when I had her trying to write like a kindergartener at age 3. I did NOT know about developmental stages, but just assumed if I taught her she would learn. I shared my pro-parenting tips with others who would listen and verbally applaud (those people don’t applaud now 😅). I “knew” so much about how to be her mom. I did not. I knew very little, actually, as evidenced 20 years later. I am STILL learning to be a good mom with all my kids. I still “know” little, but I know I love them (cue Aaron Neville 🎵).
Having a gay child had been a fear of mine. I wonder if it is a fear of many Christian parents. The cost of it is high in this community. I remember warning her of it multiple times, as if it was something she could just slip into. We live in the Seattle area, which is very progressive compared to where we spent most of our lives. I worried that she might think it was ok, just because we lived here. But I know now it was not something she chose, especially in a family like ours. She was a strong kid, thankfully, but was a pleaser like her folks!
She had a migraine, so I picked her up from work that day. She was working for a drop in facility for sex trafficked women. She was particularly quiet and said, “I need to tell you something.” I said, “OK? ” Then she began to cry.
She couldn’t speak. She just sobbed. And sobbed. I asked questions until the truth came out. We sat quietly for the rest of the drive home. I made an immediate appointment with her at the fire pit once we got home, and then I sent a message to her dad at work, asking him to come home asap.
Being on this side of things, I feel so sorry for how I responded. I don’t remember being angry, or ranting. But my response was to be so personally overwhelmed that I went into execution mode. I needed to get some sort of resolution in my brain to this situation, and I was working through the motions of that process. I did tell my daughter that I loved her, but I wish I had told her that I was thrilled with who she was, no matter what. I wish I would have asked her if she was ok. I wish I had been in tune to her needs. I wish I could have appreciated the weight she had been under for the past 3 years, hiding from us because of what we “knew”. But I did not have that capacity. I just needed to “know.”
