The parent-child relationship

I am writing a letter to my parents. I don't know if I will ever give it to them, but I think it's helping me to sort through my thoughts and feelings. Also, in writing things down with them in mind as the audience - when or if the conversation ever happens - I will have more context, words and coherent thoughts with which to talk about it.

The thing that started this letter to my parents is this: I had been talking to a friend recently about fear and the kinds of scenarios that might occur when you "come out" to your family. Her situation was a literal coming out, as in: she's gay. Mine is telling my family that I no longer believe many key Mormon doctrines. Hers actually took place a couple of months ago. Mine has not really happened yet. So this wise friend, in this conversation, asked me if I wanted to tell my family, and said that if I wanted to, then I should. If I didn't want to, then why bring it up just because it's heavy on my mind? How would it benefit either party? On this point, I wholly agree with her: if there is no need or desire to share, then don't.

After that conversation, I asked myself what I hadn't really asked myself before: did I want to tell my family?

One thing about my family is that we don't really talk very much about serious stuff. We love to hang out and goof around, but there is rarely any deep, sober discussion going on. I don't know if it's because we don't handle contention well, and so we avoid it in this way, or if it's just behavior patterns we have learned, or what. So the current state of my beliefs isn't a topic that will come up in general. I do want to say here that if the topic came up (and it has a couple of times - once with my sister and a few times with a particular sister-in-law), I would be open and honest about it.

I want to bring up another conversation that is somewhat related and is repeatedly on my mind. I was at the Exponent II retreat in Cape Cod this past fall at a panel regarding relationships with family members who have left the church. I found myself talking to someone privately after the discussion about being the family member who has "gone astray" and about my fears in telling my parents. She said something about how I was still in the child role in my relationship with them. I have thought about this a lot since and I'm not sure what to make of it.

But thinking about my relationship with my parents, and taking into account their feelings and also taking into account the many assumptions I have made about them which are not reliable (or necessarily logical), I decided that I genuinely did want to tell my parents - at least something, but probably not everything. As an act of trust. I trust them to handle it well. And it's the kind of thing I think they would want to know (this thought comes from imagining how I would feel as a parent of an adult child and how I hope they would feel they could be open with me about something so salient as this). On the other hand, I don't have any desire to tell my siblings or aunts or uncles or cousins, but I would tell them if they actually asked me about it.

Now I am composing a letter to my mom and dad. And it's harder than I thought. I am being bold but so careful in my wording. I am afraid like a child is afraid - of disappointing them, or worrying them. I am still a child. And I wonder if our relationship will ever change.

I mean, I think it will inevitably change, but in what ways will it change? Will that change happen only after we have had this conversation? Or not? Will it happen when our roles switch more dramatically - when they are aging and need physical care?

How have your relationships with your parents changed over the years? What occurrences or events do you attribute to these changes? Do you feel you have a child-parent relationship or more of an adult-adult relationship? Is the adult-adult relationship just a myth - or even desirable?