Posts Tagged ‘closet’

The one thing that has strained my relationship with my mother is something she doesn’t even know about. I think that’s sort of unfair. For the past three years I’ve found it hard to call or text my mother now that I live out of state and it’s not because of the distance. I finally dedicated myself to a faith system that I fulfills me and makes me happy. Sadly, if I ever let it slip to my mother, it could very easily bring down my entire life.

Last week, I spend some time with my mother at home. We talked about my life and some of my friends I talked about and she relished that she couldn’t place where I met them. Other friends I could tell her “oh I met them in class,” or “They’re my roommate’s friend.” While talking about my friends (coven member) I spent most of the time, side stepping the subject of ages. “Right, mom, remember when I told you I played Dungeons and Dragons (not a lie)? I met friends online and we get together every so often to play (the lie).”

My mother’s knowledge of paganism is limited yet she knows enough to catch me in a lie. A friend recently moved out (a fellow coven member – she knows who she is if she’s reading) who had a bundle of sage that managed to make it out on the kitchen counter blending in with a pile of junk mail. My mother comes in and picks it up and remarks about it and about cleansing rituals and such. I feigned ignorance, blamed it on the room mate, said she thought it would be a good idea to do that as she knows of the practice from her Native American heritage but never really got around to it. It was all a lie/truth combo that i thought worked out rather well.  Mother continued to talk about it saying it was a good idea but also mentioning that burning sage was something in Wicca and (here I’m paraphrasing) “that they pray to some sort of goddess of light but it’s all pointless because anyone praying to anything other than the one true God and Jesus was just shouting into the wind. Also stupid.”

I changed the subject very easily and gave her a big hug as she left for the car. It all felt so empty. I said goodbye and as she pulled away, my heart hurt.

For years, I’ve been dreaming of telling her in a way that would not hurt our relationship. I even had nightmares about being outted by misplaced books or other untrustworthy people letting something slip. Once, I even had a nightmare of being in what I can only describe as a Salem witch trial (in full period dress) and my mom standing beside, innocent but would die alongside me. I woke up feeling horrible thinking about how I could never tell her these things.

The closest thing I will ever get is that I took her to the same restaurant where I met with my coven every week just of a different day. I’ve done it twice now and, in its own way, it really is a rush.



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