A poem to my mom

Here it is.
Here it goes.
Three words I got to say,
That for 10 years I couldn't.
Three words that I got to tell you,
But he kept saying "you wouldn't"

That little voice in my head, raised with religion and good parenting.
That voice that said, "maybe that's a bad idea".
It's that voice that told me right from wrong. A voice I could trust, so I just went along.

This is right, this is wrong, you better do what I say! It sounded like a lifelong themesong.

So here it is
Here I go
Prevented by that voice that is heard by all.
I am gay.

You made me sick, ashamed, afraid and an outcast. So I asked for your help, but it never came. Judging on every mistake I've ever made. 

And then it stopped.
"You better die then to live this lie." It said
This voice in my head wasn't me, I realise this now that I look back as it's waiting for my misery to start again, to give me the encouraging words: "you aren't that well, and oh yes.. You are definitely, DEFINITELY going to hell."

It took me two years to get rid of him, that voice that tried to kill me. Pretending to be me, but actually my greatest enemy.

But then I thought,

Rather homosexuality then dangling at a tree.
Because the same sentence counts for both right?

The same price will have to be payed on judgement day. Right?

That counts for every sin we commit. Right?
Why would I live my life denying who I am. Because who ever you are, you're made of sin. Like a conjoined twin you can't just cut it off without killing a part of you within. So I accepted that part of me, knowing it would come with a fee. But accepting my conjoined twin as a part of me, truly set me free.

Very personal, I read this to my mom when coming out.

© a year ago,  Matthew Zebulun Janssens    gay • homosexuality • love • outing • religion