This is what happened the last time I tried to talk to my mom about religion.

Mom said something about how God loves us and studying His word will lead to better morality.

Me: “In the Bible, the Israelites did a lot of things that are considered barbaric today.”

Mom: “Those were not done to obey God, but because the Israelites were sinful. Just like people today do evil things without being ordered.”

Me: “But God provided divine assistance, helping them to win conquests against hard odds. Also, God did some massacres directly.”

Mom: “Actually, the archaeological evidence shows that most massacres didn’t happen. They were stories made to encourage moral living and teach the fear of the Lord.”

Me: “What about smaller things, like stoning non-believers? Those happened a lot.”

Mom: “The religious leaders usually did what was convenient for them instead of what God commanded, just like politicians and televangelists in modern times.”

Me: “Some of what happened is central to the narrative, like the Exodus. Would you consider those events to have happened.”

Mom: (thinks for a moment.) “Yes.”

Me: “Do you think killing the firstborn of every Egyptian family was moral?”

Mom: “Well, I believe in an afterlife.”

Me: “Jesus had that parable about a narrow gate to heaven and a wide gate to hell”

Mom: “That’s actually talking about something unrelated”

This conversation went on for a few more painful minutes. Incredibly, mom still expects me to convert back any day now, and keeps offering theology books and other things.

(For a bit of context, I’m a trans man who’s primarily attracted to women and otherwise feminine presenting people; however, I’m not currently out to my family about this.

I accidentally let slip to my grandmother that I don’t plan to get pregnant or ever have kids. She, being the conservative old-fashioned woman that she is, immediately took this as a personal challenge to change my mind without realizing that I’m already deadset on getting rid of half of my downstairs bits. Fast forward a few months and I’m out at lunch with my grandmother and a rather new friend of hers she met through church.)

Grandmother: “So, [Friend]… [My Name] says that she doesn’t want kids.”

Friend: *Completely ignoring the condescending tone that oozed from my grandmother’s comment* “Oh, That’s okay! They aren’t for everyone, that’s for sure. I know [Her Son] definitely made me question my own choices on the matter a few times, haha!”

(I’m honestly not sure if her friend genuinely didn’t notice or if she just didn’t care but I tried my best not to laugh while my grandmother silently glared daggers at her for the rest of the meal.

A few weeks later, my mother undermined my grandmother, her mother-in-law, and defended my choice. Thankfully, since then, the majority of the comments from her have stopped.)

(I live with my sister and her kid. Her kid looks like his dad but has her personality: very demanding, high strung, screechy, talks a lot, noisy, temper tantrums, rude, bully, destructive etc. I would move out in a heartbeat but I can’t afford it. So I just lock myself in my room and put on headphones. This annoys her but oh well, I went through hell and back growing up with her. She signs him up for soccer, and tells me I ought to go to his game. I hate soccer, and she knows it, but act nice. )

Me: “Oh really? What’s his team’s name?”

Sister: “Hooligans…”

Me: “What! Haha! Are you serious?”

Sister: “Yeah I dont like it, but…its not that funny! My ‘angel’ is a gift from God!”

(Sure, sis. If God has a bad humor. Even worse, later, she said she’s thinking of giving him a brother! I told her the truth, that she shouldn’t, since she can’t control one. She was pissed, saying I was discouraging her to be fruitful.)

Our 18 month old son is very sweet and cuddly, but so far, he will only ever kiss his mom.
Recently, we have found a new “game”, where we touch each other’s foreheads, make a “beep” sound, and switch each other “off”. If you are “off”, you must lay down with your eyes closed and not move until you are switched back “on” the same way.

So one day I am playing with him on the couch, when he switches me off with the appropriate “beep”. Obediently, I lay down and close my eyes. Then, I feel someting very soft and wet at my cheek – I just got the first kiss from my little one!

What a sweet and sneaky little guy I have…

My mom used to work seasonally for a company that specialized in school trips. Springtime was their busiest season, so every year, she had a trip scheduled during the April vacations, which also happened to be where my birthday fell. A couple times she got permission from the owner of the company to have me tag along on their trips that fell on my birthday, provided I didn’t interfere with their schedule and I paid for my own meals, tickets, etc.

This particular year was my 26th birthday. We were in Washington, DC, and I had gotten a new camera for Christmas that I was using throughout the trip. It was around 9:30 PM. My mom had to wait around for about an hour while the school group attended their event. Since we were on the National Mall, my mom suggested I take my camera and get some night photos of the monuments and White House at night. I walked along the Ellipse to get as close as the gates would allow. A member of Security stopped me near the South Lawn and directed me to the closest spot allowed, which he advised would also be the best spot for pictures. As I’m taking photos and really just admiring my surroundings, unbeknownst to me, my mom had decided to come and meet me. She hadn’t gotten more than a third of the way around the Ellipse when she was stopped by another member of security. He didn’t let her go any further. She explained to him that her daughter had gone ahead of her, and that I was alone. He asked her how old I was (probably thinking I was a young child), and my mom replied….26. He told her to call my cell phone and tell me to come back, which I did. I briefly mentioned to my mom that I had been stopped by security, too, but I didn’t go into detail about our conversation.

The next morning, as we’re getting ready in our hotel room, a piece on the local news television station pops up: 26-year old arrested by Capitol Police at White House. My mom looks over to me, mouth gaping.
“What did you DO last night?!”

Obviously, I told her what actually happened, and we laughed it off. She ended up pranking both my dad and her coworker with the news bit and our story. Years later, we look back and laugh about it, and occasionally when a similar story pops up, my mom “accuses” me.