I wanna talk about my mother for a minute. I know some of you don't have good relationships with your mothers, so I hope this isn't upsetting to read. I just wanna gush a little about how awesome mine is. Forgive me if it brings up unpleasant feelings, please. Also CW homomisia.
To bookend this, I turned 33 yesterday. I'll come back to that since it's what inspired this.

When I was a kid my brother and his friends spoke about homosexualtiy as if it was a disease. Which figures I guess, children's understanding of the AIDS epidemic in the 80s/90s.
I was TERRIFIED of it. I asked him once if girl gays existed, and he said no. This is when I was around 7 or 8.

Time passes. I'm 12, and fall into a coma. Mum saw me fight for my life. I came to lashing out like a scene out of Total Recall. I'd been dead for 40 seconds.
Doctors worried it could have caused brain damage or change of personality. It did change me. I enver caught up in school. Bullying started thereafter. Mum saw me go through so much in my teens. We had a bitter relationship. I blamed her for not believing I was ill sooner.
I resented her for bringing me back at all. I'd gone through all the effort to die, and everything. Being reborn into a painful world was hard. Not long after I got into an abusive relationship. Mum watched me become more withdrawn. It must have killed her to see how I was.
When I was 15 I realised I was queer. Before then even I assumed gay men would just touch you inappropriately or somethign and that's why people hated them. The bullying ramped up when word got out. I attempted a permanent escape twice.
In my 20s my dad died. I moved out on my own for the first time not long after. I continued to do some inner work, work out my issues and let go of the resentment. Watching my dad die gave me new appreciation for what she must have gone through with me.
I'd spent years blaming her for allowing it to happen. I suddenly realised what a selfish prick I was for putting it on her as if anyone would choose that for someone they cared for. I forgave her at last. We began to heal. We began to talk more. I stopped deleting her from FB.
When she found out I was queer she struggled to wrap her head around it. Asked me questions like "so one day, you'll have...... gay sex?" She had no idea I already had. I said yes. She mulled it over. Fought to accept that her son would be at so much risk from society.
She's a devout christian woman. The sort that's too busy living her truth to judge others for living their own. I think she struggled, but she accepted me. God love her for that. I had a friend at school whose parents had disowned him at 14 for being gay. I was so lucky.
Every year for my birthday my mother makes an amazing cake. Steampunk tomes, top hats, ninja, pandas. Every year she writes on facebook and in a card "to my gorgeous handsome son." She's so proud of me and I don't know why.
Yesterday I turned 33. She made me a cake.
But it wasn't until I had a slice that it made me cry. She didn't have enough room for all the colours, but I knew what she was going for.
I fucking love my mum. She's been with me every step. She's the best. I don't tell her that enough so I'm gonna unroll this and share it with her.
I tell people on father's day to tell their dad they love him, coz a time will come when they can't. But that's not fair to good parents. I tell my mother every day now that I love her, because she deserves to know. She's worked and sacrificed so hard and so much. Love you, mum x
Oh, and one more thing that makes this so amazing? When I was vegan mum complained about how hard it is to make a cake vegan (no dairy or eggs), but despite me no longer being vegan, THIS CAKE IS VEGAN! And it's delicious! The woman goes so far above and beyond...
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