I know who you are...

This is going to be a very short blog, so please stay with me you ADD people. One of the most humiliating childhood experiences I ever had involved the struggle our family was going through with divorce and religion.

I spent most of the week with my mom, and a little bit of time with my dad, and when I was six or seven, I still did whatever each of them wanted me to do while I was with them. The JWs don't celebrate holidays, so during the day one Wednesday, I was with my mom. I was at school, it was Halloween. In gym class, we were playing a Halloween game, so of course I told my teacher I couldn't do it because I was one of Jehovah's Witnesses. I sat on the sidelines while everyone else played. Wednesday nights, Dad had us though, so he took us trick or treating. I of course, was a Princess. We ran someone's doorbell (not unlike what I did on Saturday mornings with mom), and who came to the door?

My gym teacher. He knelt down so we were at eye level and looked me in the eye and just said "I know who you are." I felt so stupid. Even though I was in grade 2 and probably shouldn't have been dealing with that conflicting parental anxiety in the first place.

I'm getting to the point. I wrote a blog the other day. A few sentences. I called it "An open letter to whatever old friend is posting shit on my blog" and you wanna know something? EVERYONE is reading it. Which means, THEY are reading it. It's by far the most popular thing I've written in ages. It's not even all that good. And they aren't supposed to be reading me since I came out of the closet as an "apostate" (which means I don't agree with everything that organization teaches and I voice it). So you know something? I just want y'all to know that I know who you are. I know you've found me out, I know you're reading me, and at the end of the day, I know you aren't allowed to and you're breaking the rules. And you're the same people who shun me on the street and act self-righteous when you post anonymous comments on my blog. But I'm happy you're reading this, because maybe someday it will open your mind and maybe next time someone you love goes through a crisis of conscience, you'll be more open, more forgiving, more loving.

If my experiences and pain can help you spare someone else having to go through that in the future, I'm happy for all of us. In the meantime, please stop posting shit on my blog.

Sullivan out.