On the 4th of July R and I went a family BBQ. His sister came up to me and gave me a huge hug. She hadn't seen us since we had gotten engaged and she looked like she was on cloud nine. R is the youngest of 12. The baby of the family who's finally getting married. She grabbed my hand and looked at my ring, beaming. "My little brother is getting married!" she squealed. Then she looked at me solemnly, still holding my hand. "I'm so happy for you guys...I really am. You're so special and this was meant to be. I know this is meant to be. I pray for you two all the time. Every Sunday I go to church and pray for your happiness".

The image of her (and all of R's family) praying FOR us and my mother and aunt praying AGAINST us made me laugh. One wonders whose prayers are going to reach God first...

I've been offline for weeks now trying to deal with all this bullshit in my life. I think the most disappointing discovery is learning how deficient my family really is. My mother and my aunt have really, really disappointed me. They refuse to even listen to me, and my aunt last week went on an anti-Latino rant that would have made Newt Gingrich proud.

My mother and I are still not really talking, even though I've tried to break the ice several times. We just have so much history to overcome and I don't either one of us knows where to start. I've stopped fighting with her because the entire battle now seems to be centering on whose Islam is right. And you can never win a battle like that. Both my aunt and my mother also have me believing that if I say anything to my father I will kill him.

Which is why I've been procrastinating in telling him. That and I'm trying to find an apartment to move into before saying anything. While the "right" thing to do would be to stay at home and fight the battle there, I simply can't do it anymore. The prolonged silences and venomous accusations have taken their toll on me.