10 Defining Moments of My Life (so far) — #9: F*** you, dad

9.  After receiving an e-mail from my dad mentioning how he thought I had too much free time in my life, which lead to daydreaming and ultimately fantasizing about sex (among other things), I sent him back a long, angry and honest e-mail, basically telling him things I couldn’t muster the strength to tell him.  I told him about how I’ve never once said anything bad to him; how he didn’t have the right to judge who I was when he had never been there in my life; how if all I was to him was someone to pass on the family name (and because I’m gay, I can’t) then I was glad that I wouldn’t be passing on a name representing bigotry, hypocrisy, and ignorance.  I wrote a lot of things in that e-mail, and I don’t regret any sentence, word or letter.  I responded in a rage, my fingers furiously hacking at the keys like there was no tomorrow.  My mom told me the next day that my dad, already slightly ill, was even sicker because of me, because of that e-mail, and she told me to apologize to him.  She told me, her 18 year old son, that I shouldn’t be swearing, even though I only swore 3 times in that e-mail and it wasn’t insultingly (ie. Fuck you!) but adjectively (ie. I won’t be a fucking doormat!).  I just felt glad to not be harbouring my thoughts any longer.