Open letter to Anonymous author of life’s philosophy altering The Silver Cage

First time in my life that I’ll be doing an “Open Letter To” but it’s been a week since I’ve read The Silver Cage and I have too much emotions locked up in my chest, too much questions swirling in my head, too much feelings to express that I just need to do this.

Dear Anonymous,

I don’t know you. You hid behind the cloak of anonymity to publish this powerful book and yet you could be naked for all that you’ve bled in these pages.

I don’t need a name to feel your immense pain, your hard battle, your conflicted emotions.

I don’t need a name to know.

Know that you’ve been shunned by beloved ones.

Know that you’ve been wearing a mask for a long time. Pretending. Projecting this outer personnality that felt too small constricting like wearing clothes you long outgrew.

Know that you met someone, someday. That it’s been joy and torture.

Know from your acknowledgement that unlike Caleb you also met people believeing in you, supporting you. Just helping you to live. To grow stronger. To become who you are now. Smart. Sensitive. Still fragile  but stronger.

I’ve wondered with a friend if you were Michael of Caleb in the story but deep in my heart I know or rather I hope that you are Caleb.

It feels too real. The utter love for a religion that’s become a part of your DNA even if it’s slowly choking you to death.

The guilt. The need to be punished, to bear all responsibilities. Not deserving pardon. Not having earned any redemption even if all that you’ve done is being you.

Have you killed? No.

Have you stolen? No.

Have you been unkind? Not really.

Have you lied? Yes.

You have lied out of necessity. Your society, your upbringing and your family forced you to pretend.

I don’t know if you had to hide due to religious beliefs like Caled but it rang so true that it’s more than probable.

I raged by the end.

I still can’t understand why people reject others like that. Yet I know men fear the unknown. We tend to have a visceral rejection for change and difference. Most of us anyway.

I’ve been lucky to have been raised by loving and open minded parents. Their sole rule was: “Do what you want as long as it does not hurt others. Be who you want to be”.

I’ve attended catholic school with Jesuit priests. I had a fantastic religion teacher. He was a priest but he taught us to love each other in all our uniqueness. It was a message of acceptance. How could I not bloom with all this love?

So when I read all that Caleb went through for the crime of just being different I wanted to weep for days. Cry rivers. Then owl with the wolves as I raged. And raged. And cried. And raged again.

I have no mean to ask you what your journey was like.

I can’t know how you found your way. Who helped you. At what price.

Do you feel happy? Content?

Do you help others?

Do you open other people’s eyes to the suffering of people loving whatever the gender?

I wish these judgemental people would read your book.

Unfortunately it seems unlikely as they are so firm in their beliefs that this is so wrong loving the same gender they probably would rather burn the book than read it.

Wait. I AM being judgemental. Towards them. Something I promised I would not be…

It’s hard to forgive. I know everyone has a right to his own beliefs and I respect this. But not at the cost of others suffering. Never.

I’d like to conclude this open letter with a thank you.

You changed my view on the so called “LGBTQ” litterature. I’ve never mocked or shunned gay and lesbian but now I see it truly just like love stories.

Know that wherever you are you helped someone to change her view.

I wish you peace of mind and solace for your heart.

Yours truly.

Sophie