Usually, I'd be completely excited, especially since the weather sounds like it will be warm and sunny and there are lots of festivals to go to around the area.
But this time, I face the weekend with trepidation.
Because if I'm ever going to tell my parents about my abuse, this is it.
On my walk today, I rehearsed (and rehearsed and rehearsed) what I'll say to my mom. The basic spiel is:
Mom, I have something that is really hard for me to tell you. It's really hard for me to talk about. But keeping it secret is hurting me. It's the main reason I have an eating disorder, which I'm managing very well now.
When I was 11 or 12 years old, Tom, my brother, sexually molested me a few times. He confirmed it and apologized for it last fall. But I'm still angry.
I need you and dad to understand and respect that I am angry at him. And while he and I can be civil (like my visit in July,) it hurts me deeply.
If necessary, I'm prepared to elaborate:
"Yes, he apologized. Yes, I accepted his apology, but that doesn't mean that I'm not angry for what he did to me. He could have ruined my life. I almost lost my marriage. I developed a disease that could have killed me. I've hated myself and my body for as long as I can remember. That makes me angry. And I have every right to feel that way."
"True, it happened over twenty years ago, but for me, it's like it happened last fall, when I was strong enough to handle the memories."
If she asks, "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Just understand that it hurts me to hear about Tom right now. Respect that I'm angry at him."
And if she struggles with this information, I'll say,
"Mom, I understand that this information is a lot to take in. There isn't really anything you can do, other than realize that I don't want to hear about Tom right now. I've talked with Johnny about this, asked him for advice on how to tell you. He didn't seem to think I should tell you any of it, but I thought that gave you far too little credit. I don't want the family broken up, but I also can't live with this secret pain anymore. I don't deserve that. I didn't do anything wrong."
I can't think of any other questions she may ask or statements she may make.
And I do realize that not once have I thought about how I would react should I get a supportive reply.
And I do realize how sad that may seem, however in my recovery, I've learned that 'tis better to lower one's expectations than to constantly be disappointed. Better to stop banging my head against the cement wall.
So, I'm extremely nervous about doing this. I'm worried that I'm missing a potential scenario (like the world blowing up in my face.) A voice in my head keeps saying, "You're making a mountain out of a molehill. Why are you stirring all this up? Why are you going to break your mother's heart over something that happened so long ago?"
But then I remember the weird, disturbing dreams that I have every single night.
And I think about how tired I am all the time. And how I've been fighting my eating disorder and depression and bad body image.
I don't want to hide anymore. Not from myself. Not from my husband. Not from my parents.
So I drown that voice by practicing my "speech." And I focus on the relief I will feel after I tell my mother.
Because no matter what her reaction is, I will have done it. The truth will be out in the open.