Rebecca Hutley

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A Letter To My Family

Mom, you were always the one I went to for emotional guidance. When my friends tore me apart, you sewed me back up and taught me how to sew myself. You showed me how to cook and the proper way to make pumpkin carving a therapeutic event after a break-up. You taught me that it's never okay to refer to someone as 'gay' because it's never good to be associated with that word, and you never taught me anything that seemed to be common knowledge to everyone else in my grade. You wanted to keep me sheltered, but don't worry. I still learned.

Dad, you were less subtle in your lessons. You taught me how to shoot a bow and how to feel guilty about eating. You taught me how to change a tire and how to feel like the only reason I even bother coming to church is so you don't get mad. As I grew older, you started teaching me more and more. You taught me that I'm not allowed to 'like' things on Facebook unless they're something you agree with. You taught me that I had to be sneaky about my interests, otherwise you'd be disappointed in me.

To my parents and grandparents, all of you together taught me that my thoughts, beliefs, and opinions are invalid. You taught me to keep quiet during dinner conversations or else be reprimanded. You taught me that if I don't think the exact way that you do, then I must be corrected. I am a little kid who knows nothing of the way the world works. I am just an ignorant blasphemer who must be shown the error of her ways. I am not myself. I am a smaller version of you and I must behave as such.

You tried to teach me your ways, but my friends taught me more. You taught me that I would never be accepted if I came out. You taught me that I am not to associate with people who don't live the same way you do. You taught me to stand up for what I believe unless my beliefs differ from yours. My friends taught me what it's like to feel accepted. They showed me how they live, how some of them have to be sneaky too, and that different isn't always bad. They taught me that my opinions are valid, that just because I'm young doesn't mean that I can't think for myself.

I'm sorry I didn't turn out the way you wanted. I'm sorry I'm not a perfect little Christian girl who believes everything you tell her. I'm sorry that I have such vulgar conversations when you're not around. I'm sorry that I have to lie to you about who I am. I'm sorry that I'm too afraid of disappointing you to be myself.

You taught me to be innocent and quiet and to not disagree with anything you say in order to get your approval.

To myself, I'm sorry I'm such a teacher's pet.

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