Cringe

     To my Faithful Followers:  I apologize for my absence.  I have been in a funk. 

     You see, a few weeks ago, I was on the phone with my cou-sis (that’s not a typo – it’s my word for a cousin who is more like a sister to me) chatting about all sorts of things.  As we were about to hang up, she casually asked if I was still “doing the blog thing.”  I was a little taken aback; I had assumed that she was a loyal reader.  After an awkward pause, I answered – probably a bit snippily – that, of course, I was still posting on my blog. Why?  Another awkward silence, then she cautiously answered that she had stopped reading after the first few posts because each entry made her “cringe.” 

     “Is my writing that bad?” I asked, only half-jokingly.

     “No, no, no!  It’s not that at all.  It’s just that your disclosures make me uncomfortable.  I know what you went through; heck, I went through most of it with you.  And what I didn’t experience in your house, I underwent at my own house.  But I don’t think we need to yell those things from a rooftop. It’s not stuff I am proud of.  So when I read your blog, I imagine what other people will think and I fear that they will judge you and the family because of it.”

     I thought carefully about what my response would be.  I could see her point, but, to be honest, I didn’t care.  This was my life and my truth.

     “T.,” I started slowly.  “You are entitled to your own opinion.  When I started the blog, I said that I longed to live a life of transparency and that I would no longer be cowed by fear or shame or guilt.  I realize that people may judge me because of the life I have led or the things that I have done.  That is their prerogative, but I choose to no longer judge myself, and I choose to move past the limitations of my background.  The past is over and done with.”

     I could tell she was still unconvinced.  And it was not my job to convince her.  Still, the conversation bothered me.  Under the guise of concern about the judgment of others, I felt her judgment.  Despite my defiance on the phone, I found myself retreating, doubting, getting depressed.  And I did what I said I wouldn’t do – I stopped writing.

     Then something jarred me back to the keyboard – Tyler Perry’s disclosure of the abuse that he suffered as a child.  I, obviously, don’t know Tyler Perry, so what I’m about to say is going to sound quite silly:  I am very proud of him for coming forward like that.  Here is a person who acknowledges that he didn’t spring fully grown into the success he has.   

He had his trials, tribulations and events that others told him should remain hidden.  But he stepped into the light; even knowing that he would probably be ridiculed by some of the Black bloggers.  (One site insinuated that he was gay because he admitted to being sexually abused by a man as a child.  Frankly, it makes no difference to me whether he is gay or not.  I think it’s more contemptible to worship rappers who unabashedly call women “bitches” and “hos” than to love someone of the same sex.  But that’s just me.  And it’s probably a rant best reserved for another post.)

     In any event, I am back.  And I promise not to hold back -- even if it makes some people cringe.