A gay man from New York has written an open letter to his parents after they turned down his wedding invitation.
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Patrick Bradley(Metro.co.uk)
Patrick Bradley -
journalist and a food blogger, got married to his long term partner
Michael, in 2013 and 2 years later he has written about he felt about
his parent's rejection.
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His parents had refused to attend citing their religious beliefs as a reason.
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Patrick Bradley and his partner, Micheal(Daily News)
According to the Out
Magazine where the open letter was published, Patrick had penned the
letter after having the "most unpleasant of dreams" about his parents.
Which he says recurs every now and then.
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Patrick Bradley(Out Magazine)
The blogger says he wanted to tell his own side of the story and not be judged or seen as an outcast by his parents.
"So
that I can feel like I have all of my dignity with me when I will
undoubtedly see you at family gatherings - gatherings which I now would
rather avoid if it means that either of you will be present", Patrick says.
Read the letter below:
Dear Mom and Dad,
It’s
been 890 days since the day that you both decided not to partake in my
wedding. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to say anything about
it. Perhaps I’ve been afraid of what the family will think, what the
family might say. Or perhaps I’ve been afraid of losing even more of my
wonderful, beautiful family, whom I think about day and night.
But
the time is now because I’ve finally grown too tired of the 890 days
and nights of being haunted by your presence—by your lack of presence,
to be more precise. I’m tired of night after night of dreaming of you.
And tonight, I had the most unpleasant of dreams—one that jolted me from
my sleep and disallowed me to return to it. So at 6:22 a.m., after
little more than three hours of sleep, I’m writing this letter to
you—knowing that it is taking from my opportunity of getting a full
night’s rest before work; but I’d rather work on little sleep than on
little dignity.
As not to keep anyone in
the family excluded (any longer), I’m sending this letter to everyone
involved. I want everyone to know what had happened on my last visit to
you, before my beautiful, wonderful wedding. I’m not writing this letter
in an act of vengeance (even though it feels like it is), but rather,
I’m doing it because I’m tired of walking on eggshells around my
siblings, godchildren, nephews and nieces. I’m tired of having to be
“civil” with both of you, “for the sake of the family.” I’m also tired
of the unwanted holiday and birthday gifts, and I’m tired of you having
the audacity to speak to my husband (and myself) as if nothing has
happened. Have you no shame?
I think it’s
time that I told my side of the story to the family, as I’m sure you
have already told yours. I want everything to be out in the open, so
that I can feel like I have all of my dignity with me when I will
undoubtedly see you at family gatherings—gatherings which I now would
rather avoid if it means that either of you will be present; I have
other ways of seeing my family.
On May
13, 2013, I made the trip out to New Jersey—the day after Mother’s
Day—to take you out for lunch because I had to work the previous day.
You picked me up at the train station and we stopped at A & P to
pick up a birthday card for one of the boys. On the way there, I told
you about how Michael’s extended family, who’d be traveling from
Georgia, Colorado and beyond—in part to meet you!—were so excited about
meeting you. You simply replied that you both would not be going to the
wedding. I tried my best to retain composure, thinking that I’d be able
to change your mind before the big day.
By
the time we left A & P, you started citing the bible, while
unsuspecting shoppers were bustling about us, running their afternoon
errands. And by the time we got back to the car, you’d mentioned your
fear of an angel appearing to you, saying, “Stop praying for Patrick!
He’s already in hell!” I knew then that it was time to go to my last
resort and give an ultimatum which I never expected would be fulfilled.
I
explained to you, simply and calmly, that if you (both) did not attend
my wedding, you would not see me again after the wedding: no holidays,
no birthdays, no hospitals, no funerals. What I heard next put me into a
state of mild shock. You followed up, quickly and readily, with, “We
know that! I talked to your dad last night and we already accept it! We
said that we give you back to God!” I recall other things being said,
which I’ll omit here. As I sat in shock—shock that you would rather
never see me again then attend my wedding—you simply moved onto your
next subject: “Well, I guess you don’t want to go to lunch anymore.” As I
opened the car door to walk back to the train station, you offered,
“Let me drive you back to the train. Let it be the one last thing that I
do for you.” If there was any doubt in my mind that I’d misunderstood
what you’d said to me previously, you had clarified your intentions then
and there.
Mom and Dad: By not attending
my wedding, you rejected me, and you rejected my husband, who is my own
immediate family. I, in turn, reject anyone that rejects my family—out
of dignity and respect for it. But I am offering resolution.
I
will forgive you both for what you have done, if you, in front of the
entire family (from youngest to eldest) admit that what you both did was
wrong; admit that you both should have been at the wedding. Because I
do think that what you both have done is shameful. You’ve torn a family
apart. But what breaks my heart most is what this has done to the
youngest in the family—the ones who were too young to know, or too young
to understand what was going on. The ones whose only conclusion was
perhaps “Patrick must be bad” or “He must have done something wrong
because Grandma didn’t go to his wedding.” That is where I think you
both should bear the shame, not me.
I want everyone to know everything. And maybe tonight, I’ll finally be able to sleep the whole night through.
With Best Intentions,
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