black sheep baaaaa

I've always known I was a little different to the rest of my family. Even as a little one I didn't quite grow out of the 'why?' stage. I had an insatiable appetite for knowledge, for new experiences and new ideas. I also concede I was a precocious little tyke because I thought I understood more than I did. I never hesitated in telling an adult when they had it wrong (oh yes, how endearing!) and once I realised that neither Santa nor the tooth fairy existed, I sought out other tales and tricks to understand and expose.

In my teens this started to become a problem. Not because I stepped on too many toes, but rather the wrong ones. I started to question the big things, things that the rest of my family accepted wholeheartedly and resented being questioned. I started to ponder the big questions many teenagers do, like what is the meaning of life, why are there so many injustices in the world. You know, the usual stuff. The problem was the rest of my family is very religious, and I started applying these questions to the church.

I started to question some of the things being taught, particularly around equality, acceptance, tolerance and compassion. I couldn't see any support for the argument that women shoudl be subordinate to men, or that homosexuality was an abomination, and so many other patriarchal and archaic prejudices and hatreds that fly in the face of what they claim the church is all about. In fact, I felt so strongly the opposite, to the point that I started kicking up a fuss, argued a lot and then left.

I left not only the church but also my family. There was a crucial point of no return, which I won't go into here, but suffice it to say I could see the blatant hypocrisy as if it were a flashing light and decided I couldn't be a quiet little sheep any more. I may not be your typical black sheep - doing drugs, getting caught in the wrong crowd, sleeping with lots of stangers, the usual stereotypes - but that day I knew I couldn't be part of the flock any longer.

In the years that have passed there have been many ups and downs, but there is ongoing discomfort every time my family and I are in each others' company. There is a gaping gulf that I studiously try to avoid around politics and religion. Unfortunately this careful avoidance is one-sided, a truce that doesn't exist. And no matter how many times I tell myself to be stronger and let it wash under the bridge, I find myself arguing back. I can't help fighting back when I feel passionately about something, despite knowing that my arguments fall on deaf ears. I comfort myself in the knowledge that they too know their arguments will not sway me yet they do it anyway, so why can I not do the same, why must it be me who must be silent and accepting a gracious and tolerant. Why can't they for once be understanding of how I feel and let sleeping dogs lie.

The problem with this is by fighting back things just get even more uncomfortable. Every time, that gulf gets a little wider. And I love my family, despite our differences. So I'm stuck in a conundrum of wanting to keep the peace yet not wanting to remain silent on issues I fundamentally and passionately disagree on. I wish I had an answer to it, because it's driving me nuts! Baaaaa...