To my family: a letter of love

Dear Mum, Dad , my brilliant beautiful Sisters,

I love you all so much.

I am so sorry that I haven’t been able to communicate with you the way I want to, for quite a long time now. I know we don’t talk to each other a lot, and we all live very far away from each other so the hugs and the chats are rare. But when we do talk there is a value in the openness we bring.It’s a family trait apparently, we cut through the shit.

I haven’t been lying to you exactly. Have I? I’ve only come out to 2 of you. Is that fair?

Am I lying to you when you ask me how I am and I say grand? Black and white answer. Yes. When 1 of you notices this Summer that the person you call brother-in-law seems in much better form these days? And I shrug....... Am I just being vague? Am I lying?

Today, in a sisters watsapp chat, 1 sister said that we should stop saying we’re grand all the time. That we should take time to be honest with each other when we’re going through shit. ‘Take time to say when we’re not fine’ she typed. I baulked. There was an honest reply from 1 of us, talking about supporting her partner through complex health issues. It wasn’t me.

When is a lie a lie?

I have thought about this often. Usually with a compassionate lens; Is it a lie if society forces people to hide from themselves? Is it a lie if someone is too terrified to speak the truth? Is it a lie when you are so distracted by your own internal dialogue that you can’t hear the truth? Is it a lie when you can hear the truth but you deny it anyway?

2 things

1. I have concluded that a lie is always a lie. It is what it is. It is deliberately not telling someone you love something that profoundly alters the landscape of your life. It is a lie. They lied. It is more than not telling the truth.

2. That compassionate lens I was using? That was to judge someone elses’s lies. I am living someone else’s lies. But I am also living with my lies. Ergo your honour. I am lying.

One of the hardest parts of this journey is learning the art of privacy. Learning how it can be helpful. Understanding the difference between privacy and secrecy. I am brave. I respect brave. Brave to me looks like honesty. My partner is secretive. My partner is afraid. How do brave and honest live together with fear and secrecy in the same life?

Option 1: You become emersed in the secrecy and start lying too.

Whose clothes are they mummy? Your (dead) Grandma hon

Why don’t you wear these shoes mummy? They just don’t fit me anymore

You seem to have a brilliant life? Yes thanks

How are things? Grand thanks

Option 2: Well I'm trying to figure that one out

So I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so very very sorry.

But I know that once you know you can’t unknow. And once you know you’ll think there is something fixable. And you will worry. And it will take time out of your busy lives to learn what you need to know. And you all have so much going on with your own families. And I don’t want to burden you with something that is so utterly outside yours and my control.

And And And And

So I don’t tell you because I want to protect you. Because I love you. Because I know that you love me too.

But I need to tell you because I don’t believe in lies. They are bad. They never work. And because I love you