Yesterday was supposed to be the day. I spent quite some time that morning as I lay in bed, rehearsing… practicing… trying to prepare myself to be able to finally say to my mom, in person, to her face what I had never directly expressed.
I wanted to say simply, “Mom, I love you. I am a woman. I have taken the name Sophia.” That’s it — all I wanted to say… but when I saw her again, and everything was happy and friendly and kind… and she even wanted to take me to pay the last bit of my phone bill AND take me to get food, and even pay for me… we talked for quite a while about family and all the things going on — I just couldn’t.
I love her. And I know that I’ve hurt her. Causing her pain is something I never want to do, but it’s so hard to find a balance between my own freedom and my own wishes, and what I’m willing to give up to keep her happy. Yesterday I kept silent. I think — I hope — that my silence has kept her from at least a little sorrow. At least for now.