Severing a Family Tie
This will be one of more defining entries of my Introspections, particularly because of what it entails; as far as the changes I had to deal with in my past, and how they have affected me in the future. Understand once again that these Introspections are not meant to define what the company is, but who (or what) The Lotus Manjè is.
I was born with my father, mother, and grandfather in the home. I had a great childhood, with memories that I cherish very much. After the birth of my little brother after we moved, not much changed aside from being used to a new person in the household. Things were great.
It wasn’t until my mother started going to a new church that things started to really change. My dad wanted no part in it, and he was right to do so. After a few years in the church, she ended up filing for divorce from my dad, and stayed in the church. She also became harder to deal with, yelling at me for trying to reprimand my little brother, or other little things. I’d come to a conclusion that it was simply because I looked like my father, and I left it at that. Other things transpired that I am not willing to talk about on the web, and I slowly realized that the woman who had raised me wasn’t the same woman who I saw every other weekend for visitation.
Eventually everything came to a head. I ended up having to leave the house and walk back to my dad’s home with my suitcase at around eight at night, and with no phone to check and see if he was there. Thankfully the house wasn’t too far, and my father showed up not too soon after I got there. That night was one of the few times I’ve ever cried.
I hadn’t realized it until lately, but all those years ago I had come to a conclusion that I wasn’t looking at my mother anymore; she was a completely different person who had her face. Trying to tell this to other people leaves them either confused, reluctant to understand or both. I have explained my situation to two girls I dealt with when I was twenty-one and twenty-two. They both disappointed me with their answer, and I knew dealing with them any longer was pointless. In a funny way, they showed themselves the door soon after.
I have been told multiple times to reconcile with my mother, but that would mean putting my hand out to be eaten by a beast, and I refuse to do that. Instead, I decided to keep her out of my life completely. She made her choices, and she has to live with them. She most likely is doing that by “getting right with God,” but it’s not anything I haven’t seen before. In all honesty, I care nothing for her because the person she used to be is gone, and I have to be content with the fact that I may never see the person who raised me again. Saying “I still love her as a mother” is asinine to me because her choices tore our family apart, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive that. Life is full of choices, and you have to deal with what your dealt with, not run behind a religion and hope for the best.
My stance on this has, and will most likely continue to, confuse and anger people who can’t understand it. But understanding Lotus Manjè is necessary, and as such I have decided to write this. My case is not as severe as others, but I hope that black men who have not too pleasant memories of their mothers are able to find solace in this writing, and are more willing to talk about their own experiences.
Expect backlash, but also embrace it.