Page 7 of For Your Heart
“Did I lose you?” she asks.
My chest tightens because my immediate answer isa long time ago.Again, I keep those thoughts to myself.
“No,” I say. “And I’m not going to church. I don’t believe in a god any more than you do.”
“Oh no,” she says, laughing. “I don’t want you to go to one of those.” The only thing she puts a more negative connotation on than my sexuality is anything religious. Thank you for small favors, I suppose. Being gay isn’t as offensive as organized religion to my mother, anyway. “But have you considered therapy?”
“I’ve been in therapy for three years,” I say. “My therapist is the one who encouraged me to tell the world my truth so that I can live my life as I should be.”
I can nearly see the way her face scrunches. “A real therapist, honey.”
“He’s got his doctorate and is licensed in three states.”
“No, dear. The kind of therapist that can help you.”
I pray to no one for patience. And for my mother to get her head out of her ass. Pulling into the parking space that I’ve claimed for my own every morning since I started, I push the car into park and then close my eyes, letting my head fall back onto the headrest.
“Listen, Mom. I’m gay. You accept it or you don’t. But I’m not having this conversation anymore. I refuse to live the way you want me to live. The next time you call, it better not be about my sexuality or anything else that you disapprove of in my life.Youare the toxicity in my life that my therapist says I should cut out.”
“That should be enough to convince you he’s not a real therapist, dear. No one should ever tell you to leave your parents. I shudder to think about his poor parents and what they think of his chosen profession.”
“Again, no more. I have to go.”
“Sage, I love you. I just want what’s best for you. I want you to live your best life and have no regrets,” she says empathetically.
No, you want me to live exactly how you want me to live without my own thoughts, feelings, or goals.
“Love you too, Mom.” I hang up before she can speak again. Then I tap my phone until it’s on silent mode. Not even a fucking vibration!
Once I might have cried. I might have been hurt by how she thinks I’m defective. I might have actually tried to convince myself it’s not so bad to pretend to be straight for her.
That I don’t do that now, means I’ve come a long way. I’m not so soft and eager to please someone else at my own expense anymore. That someone else has always been my mother.
I remain in my car for a minute and try to let it go. To wash this morning’s conversation out of my head with my practiced breathing. It’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t need her approval or her support.
Just because I want it doesn’t mean that’s what’s healthy for me.
“I love my career and I’m beginning to love my life,” I say to no one. “I’m not ashamed that I’m gay.”
My cheeks heat, but not from embarrassment or even talking out loud. My cheeks heat because I’m still desperately trying to work up to my first gay hookup. Toys are all well and good, but I desperately want to feel someone else.
I’m just not sure how to go about doing that. I’ve never considered myself shy or nervous before. Hell, when I was pretending I was straight and living the life of a closeted gay man trying desperately to hide what he was, hitting on women was easy. Finding hookups was easy.
I mean, yeah, I always closed my eyes and pretended it was a man sucking my dick. And thank fuck, I only ever had to fake interest in sex with one person. Don’t ask me how I managed for all those fucking years. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have a very high sex drive.
Nope. Not going there. I won’t fall down the rabbit hole that is my fucked up past.
“I’m right where I want to be,” I tell myself as I finally shut off my car. Grabbing my gym bag and breakfast shake, I head for the door.
I’m ten minutes early as opposed to twenty. Not just because I was two minutes late walking out of my house this morning, but because of my darn mother. That means I need to cut my routine in half.
“Good morning, Carly,” I say when I walk in.
She gives me big eyes and a super wide smile. “Morning, Sage. I didn’t think you were coming in today.”
See! Even Carly knows I’m late.
Nope. Not going to let that deflate me or affect my day. I’m in control of my day.
