We are great to look at. Some have even called us, “beautiful.” At any occasion when we gather, we are a “force” – occupying so much space, leaving an indelible mark. Try to imagine what happens when that song comes on – our song, that one, “We Are Family” – you know it, the next line goes, “… I got all my sisters with me…” You should see us! But listen to this – there is no mistaking it, as a unit, magic. In life, if one were to simply judge what we have accomplished thus far, the opportunities and experiences we have both had and created, well, we did good. Our offspring? Yeah, we rocked that to. The partners? Well, not always so much. As far as I know, we are all relatively healthy, with nothing that will kill us… except life itself. So yes, we look the (successful, well-adjusted, accomplished, happy, loving) part. But today I will state, in many ways what you see is a farce; a fallacy.
This is not going to be too too long, because quite frankly, (1) even as I am committed to, “making my mess my message” the revelation of this, because it involves others aside from myself (see, I am the only one who signed the proverbial waiver with myself to reveal to yall all MY shit; no one else did), necessitates I censure myself. (2) Quite frankly, even as the actions, behaviors and realities of this situation are not new (in fact, have been the reality all my life), it still embarrasses and hurts. (3) I have come to the realization that many instances/people/behaviors are only allowed to perpetuate because we give “life” to them; we breathe oxygen to them by shining a spotlight or by giving too much energy.
So, I will address this for one reason only (aside from being committed to the truth) – I have been very quiet lately. I have had the need to process an extremely unpleasant and life-altering set of occurrences. I will share the gist of it in the hope it will resonate with someone and in doing so, strengthen the tiny bond of humanity that allows for solidarity in fucked-up situations; the ones that bring comfort from knowing, “shit! I am soooooooooooo glad this is not just my reality!”
I do not get along with my mother (I have spoken about this a bit before). I never have and at our ages, it may be safe to say, I never will. What I have not said is that we have not spoken in a bit over two years now. I officially ended the farce that was our pseudo mother-daughter relationship then; and, I can honestly say there has not been one moment of regret or missing – because here’s the thing – one cannot miss something they have never had… So, I walked away from that relationship I have chalked up to have been a failure, because even as a young lady as I romanticized and depended on the security that, at least my mother will love me, I have subsequently grown up enough to realize that parental/sibling/familial relationships are just that, “relationships” and as a result, sometimes, they just don’t work. Shit! Sometimes, “they’re just not that into you…”
But see, parental tentacles have an extremely far and impactful reach; and, my family is no exception to that. I have sisters. Three. Many times I joke that having three means that any of us can safely disagree with and periodically stop speaking to at least two if we like… there’s a spare. Ha. But, this is no laughing matter. Who I consider my family is about to shrink yet again; getting rid of the spare. It has taken me a very very long time, literally years, to get to the place in life, in my life, to understand what is deserved and owed to each of us, simply by virtue of being a human being. Truly, I am not even speaking of the extras here – the extras that should be doled out to those that treat us better than we may deserve, the ones that do take the extra steps to help, honor, protect or support us. The ones with their hearts not only in the right place in their chests, but with that organ that is bigger and works overtime to pump more blood with our names on it. No, just speaking of being treated well because, well, that’s what differentiates us from the assholes.
I have finally had enough. I have spoken about abuse before. I have lived (and survived) it, so I recognize it. I have educated myself enough to know that it (abuse) comes disguised in many forms – its face can look like the devil… and it can attempt to look like an angel. ‘Abuse’ can be bold and ride in on a fist, a punch, a kick, saliva, knives, guns, pieces of wood, restraints. Or, it can creep in hiding behind manipulation, ridicule, coercion, narcissism, self-entitlement, duplicity, bullying, greed, insecurity, etc etc. Truly. Because see, ‘abuse’ is the intent by one person (or persons) to dominate, subjugate, harm, destroy another person. It is the need to impose will over another’s.
God gave me the opportunity at life after one abuser; I promised Him I would honor that by living… well. And, there will not be a parent, sibling, relative, (so-called)-friend, partner, employer, person alive that I will ever again allow to steal from me what He has given and promised and what I know I owe Him… a great life!
… And then there were two.