i love you, mom, but i've gotta be me

Recently, my mom’s guilt tripping has been a lot less frequent than it used to be. For the first couple of years I was in DC, she would ask me to come back because she missed me. The request was really sweet. I am the youngest and the ‘baby’ of the family. In fact, my mom still calls me ‘baby’ to this day (she calls Serena, my 18 month old niece, by the same name). It’s embarrassing, I know. But my mom would ask me to come back home every single day (because she called every day). It got old…quick.

My mom and I had a falling out right around the time that Jesse and I became serious (shortly after we initially said the I love yous). It was probably the biggest fight we’ve had since I was a teenager. She was upset that I was in a relationship that she suspected would keep me on the opposite side of the country forever. She said some things that I had no idea she felt and I subsequently shut her out of my life—for a short while. My heart needed the recovery time. We’ve made up, of course, but now the phone calls between us are every couple of days instead of every day. The guilt trips have not stopped. They're different now.

As I became more liberal, I stopped going to church. It’s not that I don’t believe in God, because I do, Ann Coulter. I thought it was hypocritical of me to attend. I am, after all, pro-gay rights, pro-choice, pro-euthanasia, and pro-contraception (you already know how I feel about sex before marriage). I realized that I was fooling myself 2 years ago when I attended a Saturday night service at a church in the city. The sermon was about abstinence only sex education and how it was the only way to keep kids safe. I walked out during the sermon. I could no longer support a religion that stood for everything that I am against.

My mom does not know that I’ve come to this conclusion about the faith that she worked so hard for me to learn and grow in. I don’t have the heart to tell her. Instead, I’ve put on the hypocrite hat whenever I go home and attend Mass with her. I’d rather lie than hurt her because she’s such a devout Catholic (apparently, I’m pro-dishonesty too).

Last night, when we spoke, she asked me if I had gone to church (it being Sunday and all). I told her no. She got upset and asked me why. Because the Church hates gays, because it’s unrealistic about sex ed., because it won’t support the use of condoms to prevent the spread of HIV, because it would prefer that an unwanted child be born to a rape victim. I replied, “I don’t know.” “Liz, you know how important it is to go to church. The least you could do to thank the Lord for all that He’s done for you is go to church once a week. That’s all He asks. And take Jesse with you. I know he’s not Catholic, but he should go too. Even though you don’t go, I pray for you at church.” Thanks, mom.

My mom will never believe what I believe—that everyone is entitled to their own relationship with a higher being if they so chose. They should have the right to challenge their faith and choose the path that is right for them. As my niece’s Baptism sponsor, I will do my best to guide her faith, support and encourage questions, and provide her with the information to make the right decisions for her based on what she believes in (I wish I'd had that). Mom, I’m sorry I’ll never be the kind of girl you raised me to be. But I think too much.