Here grows the Cure of all, this Fruit Divine,
Fair to the Eye, inviting to the Taste,
Of vertue to make wise: what hinders then
To reach, and feed at once both Bodie and Mind?So saying, her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck’d, she eat:
Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe,
That all was lost.
“Don’t search,” I warned them many months ago when the subject of my income was broached. “I write about many topics, some of which would make you uncomfortable. There are things I’d like to keep private. Please don’t try to track me down.”
They agreed, but the fruit was too tempting. God sent them a vision, which apparently they used to map out the way here. They’ve gorged themselves on forbidden fruit; they brought with them the stink of improperly-gathered knowledge as they walked through my door.
I cannot detail the conversation which ensued. Should I mention at least that my appearance, character and mothering were found grossly lacking? That the state of my immortal soul was fretted over? That I was offered help in correcting my clearly misguided sexual orientation?
Should I recount that I’m wasting my God-given talents, which would (perhaps) be more appropriately utilized if I took up online medical transcription? And that my children will one day suffer because of my writing? And that they feel like failures as parents because I’ve strayed so far from the path?
Eh, I probably should not mention those things. But to hear my parents call me an unattractive talentless damned-to-hell lesbian was painful. Painful indeed. Does writing it help mitigate the pain? I sure hope so.
Did you catch the reference to my orientation in the paragraph above? Of all things, how could they mistake something so obvious as that? The vision from God lead them (so they said) to the name of this site, but in obedience to the letter of the law, they did not set virtual foot here. Instead, they read the three-line summaries that Google shows when one searches on the site name.
I cannot bring myself to check exactly what shows up in the summaries. I guess it points to me lovin’ the coochie a bit more than is accurate, at least if you consider it on a yearly basis.
Three-line summaries not only allow one to misunderstand my orientation, but they also fail to give a complete picture of what happens here. I want to believe that I’ve done more than mumble yarns of inserting Tab A into Slot B, but I’m guessing that anything beyond that is lost to a reader of the summaries.
Other bloggers faced with similar situations have stopped blogging. Some have moved to new addresses, instituted passwords, taken down posts, or chosen more family-friendly topics. I will do none of these things. I’m pleased with what I’ve written here; anyone who is not should back quietly toward the door and slip away.
Long ago I reconciled myself to the idea that someone I didn’t want reading could end up here. My philosophy has been this: If they read where they’ve been told not to, most likely they’ll learn things they didn’t want to know.
They may find out about a daughter’s fisting. Or rimming. Or buttfucking. Or group-playing. They may find out that she is joyously non-monogamous, bi and sex-positive. Didn’t want to know these things? Sorry. Shouldn’t have read.
This is the way the world works. This is what the apple tastes like. And no matter how foul it is upon the tongue, it can never be untasted.
Ahh, AAG, your ‘rents are limited by what they believe and the box that they were put into as children, when it sounds like you’ve spent your life(or at least the last many years) trying to do away with any limits that don’t truly feel like you.
I, for one, deeply regret the pain that they have caused you. We ALL want to feel the love and support of our parents and yours really let you down.
May you soon get to a place of painless acceptance of their narrow mindedness. If they don’t love you, the hell with ‘em. You’ve got all of us-your readers- and untold numbers of friends.
That’s all? No way. :)
My blog is worth $102,181.74.
How much is your blog worth?
Reading this post made me realize how fortunate I am in that most of my relatives are deceased. Since I rarely speak to those who are among the living, Christmas shopping is a breeze.
But to hear my parents call me an unattractive talentless damned-to-hell lesbian was painful.
Indeed. May I say that you would be remiss in not returning the favor? Since your parents have limited their reading to three word summaries, I recommend a post entitled Happy Mother’s Day! which links to the comments submitted by your readers’ for this and the preceding post. It is only fair that you let your parents know what your readers think of them.
Since your parents chose to deny you the praise you deserved, I’ll offer mine.
How hard you must have worked on this? Your site is beautiful and professional. And the fine quality of the writing, even though you are always worried about money and cutting down trees. In the midst of your wry humor, there’s understanding and maturity and common-sense. You should be proud of yourself and, if I was your mother, I would be proud of you.
I’m so sorry to hear of your parents reaction to finding your site.
I don’t know why, but I had always had the feeling that they knew what was here, but they stayed away by choice. I think it might have been with the ex. I think you mentioned that they had seen his blog, so I assumed they knew of yours.
Anyway, I find I like the entries about your family, and life, More than the personal ones. I think if they take the time to focus on this side of your life (which they should) they may slowly come around. I know what I have to say is of no consequence, but I hope the little encouragment I throw in might help.
Thanks for allowing us into your life. Your writing is wonderful and insightful.
Thanks again
So, their Invisible Friend told them where to look? What do we think of people who hear voices telling them what to do? Yes, they’re delusional and need help.
But staying with the religious theme, maybe they’ve been reading their black religious book rather selectively. The section that immediately came to mind regarding your parents was, ‘Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye’.
All religions have major hang-ups with sex and intimacy, and THAT is the true shame in this situation. They’re all death cults, offering misery, shame and subservience throughout our lives on the promise that it’ll all be OK when we die. Yeah right.
I, too, would like to say how much I not only enjoy your blog but that your open, joyful promotion of sex wonderfully contradicts the shameful messages we – especially women – often hear from so many.
Ugghh!! I feel for you….some things are better unknown for some people. I am reminded of the time my mother walked in on my bf going down on me with great enthusiasm. Ermm. 15 years later, and I can hardly think of it still.
I’m so sorry you got the response you did…and I admire your resolve. Never forget all the inspiration and hope you’ve given to so many people. Me, among them.
I’m late to the party here and probably everything worth saying has been said. Still, I HAVE to tell you that you are awesome and strong and I am throughly impressed that you have managed to not let your parents’ views and harsh, misguided words get to you. You know who you are and are (rightly) proud of yourself. It’s inspiring.
I have no contact with my parents. I have no idea if they’ve located my writing on topics that they really should not know about. But, I don’t care, and I don’t care what they think about it either, because I don’t talk to them and thus I don’t have to know how much they disapprove of me.
Frank Zappa, who also had no contact with his parents throughout his adult life, said it best:
“If you wind up with a boring, miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest or some guy on TV telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.”
Zappa was right, but he also tended to put things in a pretty acerbic and negative way. Although the positive, uplifting flipside of it is true too:
If you want an exciting, wonderful, joyful life, don’t let anyone tell you how to do your shit.
i have been thinking about this post for several days now
i’ve been trying to think of something to say
i can’t
i hurt for you, AAG
i hurt for you