Cognitive dissonance

My mom made it to the wedding. It was amazing to have her there, celebrating with us. Celebrating us. She came a long way from when I first told her about Mel. It wasn’t, and isn’t, always easy.

My mom didn’t want me to be with Mel. She wanted me to live the life she had imagined for me. I think that is one of the hardest things a parent does - giving up their own dreams for their children to support the dreams of those children.

Five days after becoming engaged, exactly two years before our Cabo wedding, my dad sent this message:

“I wish I were able to celebrate your life-defining decision. Barring that, I wish I could pretend. But I’m a terrible actor. You’d know I was lying. That lie would detract from your happy day. I’d be beyond miserable. You - and everyone else - would know it. I’d be a spider amid a kaleidoscope of butterflies.”

He would not be at the wedding. I had a frank conversation with my mom. I let her know that if she couldn’t be happy for us, it would be better that she not attend. I told her that I understood the situation was complicated and I wanted her to really think about whether or not she could show up for me in the way I needed.

I was raised in the LDS (Mormon) church. I was supposed to marry a man. The church gives pamphlets to young kids when they are twelve years old. When I was a kid, it had rules that were to be followed. When it came to gay relationships, it read:

“Homosexual and lesbian behavior is a serious sin. If you find yourself struggling with same-gender attraction or you are being persuaded to participate in inappropriate behavior, seek counsel from your parents and bishop. They will help you.”

There wasn’t space for my relationship in the church. Many gay Mormon kids are ostracized by their families after coming out. In their most vulnerable moment, they’re told they are wrong. Not enough. That the way they are isn’t okay. That they’re no longer worthy of love.

I was lucky. In my immediate family, only my dad decided to step away from me. My mom made it to the wedding. She celebrated with us. Our friends. Mel’s family. It was beautiful.

Months later, I thanked her for coming to the wedding. I let her know what it meant to me. She burst into tears. “No child should have to thank their parent for being at their wedding!” she cried. I agreed, no child should have to say thank you. And yet. I was raised in a household and in a religion that said my relationship is wrong. That it is a sin.

My mom is still a member of that church. How can she believe that and refuse to accept my expression of gratitude? How can she say parents should support their children no matter what, and also believe that legalizing gay marriage threatened the strength of the family unit?

I see the nuance in this issue. The church doesn’t make space for gay relationships. And also, the church has given my mom a purpose. A belief system. A sense of belonging. Principles to guide her life. A goal to strive for. It isn’t a church she goes to once a week. It’s a community. A home. A lifestyle. How can she walk away from all of that because of one issue? How can she walk away from something she loves because her daughter isn’t welcome there? Is that fair?

I might think so. She might not. This isn’t black and white. There are shades of gray. I wish my mom saw that. Should a parent have to be thanked for being at their child’s wedding? No. And also, because of a belief system that doesn’t accept her daughter’s marriage, my marriage, it makes sense that I would thank her. Why can’t she see that? Why won’t she see that?