A Family Affair

When do we hold family accountable?

When do we let them know that they are wrong? There is a difference between cursing them out and not initiating contact for several months and having a clear, direct conversation. When do we say, “you got me f*cked up?” When does the older generation respect the younger as adults? Respect your walk in life? The shit that you’ve accomplished on your own with no input of theirs? They are seekers of validation, but they turn their nose up at the fact that you are too.

Why is it so hard for us to hold family accountable?

Accountable for our negative internal voice? Accountable for our delayed response to bullying, gaslighting, everything? Accountable for our lack of confidence? Our inability to communicate? Inability to show and receive unconditional love? We make up poor excuses to rid them of any responsibility in our upbringing because we are our “own person”. “That’s just how he/she/they is/are.” Ok. Great. So forget the major breakdowns in communication? The mistakes they’ve made? The disloyalty? The vindictiveness? The “woe is me, so let me disrespect you”? When do we look beyond the food, clothing, shelter thing? That’s what they are supposed to do.

Why do we not hold family accountable?

What is the real problem?

Why are we forced to accept unhealthy levels of toxicity? A never ending cycle of trauma bonding. It’s funny. Family has the most to say about who you surround yourself with, but they end up being the exact same. So, I can take your shit, but no one else’s? Cool. They blame all burnt bridges on you. So, we are going to pretend like I wasn’t in that situation because I was never taught to ‘read the room’? Never taught to stand up for myself? I had no voice with you. Where was it going to miraculously come from? Oh yeah. My constant urge to be on the defense. The boiling over of negative emotions because who taught me that it was ok to FEEL?

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You’ll get over it.”

“(insert whatever expletives because it’s always directed at you)”

When do we hold family accountable?

I had a therapist illustrate the conflict in my family. Literally. Lines with breaks in ’em from me to each member of the family. She asked who I was close to. I hesitated. Considering the time I was asked, I was in the midst of deciding if I even wanting to speak to anybody. She was obsessed with the relationship between me and the paternal side of my DNA, but we had that conversation already. No need. We never got around to the maternal side. My biggest bullies.

Yup.

I said it.

The relationships between women in my family is very interesting. Everyone feels they are owed something, with nothing to give or return. Everyone wants to be heard, but are not listening. Everyone wants their being to be acknowledged and/or appreciated, but have no way of showing regard for yours. Why? Everyone’s in competition with one another. To be the boldest. To be the loudest. To be the most self-righteous. How about just being? Accepting everyone else’s right to just be? If we’ve learned anything on this here planet is that no one knows better. No one’s doing better. Everyone is trying. Even when they’re not, what does it have to do with you?

I feel like I’m related to people I can’t relate to.

They are waiting for the worst news, not the best. They are waiting for you to fumble, just to say they knew. No one’s rooting for you. Your downfall, maybe. They never see the good in you. Unless they can take credit. Remind everyone of all they have done for you. Not what they’ve done to you. What is that about?

Why aren’t we holding family accountable?

You’ve ever been pulled into the middle of something and been blamed for the whole thing? I was minding my business, but I guess because I listened to both sides, now it’s on me. It’s on me to rationalize the thing. It’s on me to be understanding. It’s on me to find resolve. No. Where’s the consideration for me? Run to me. Vent to me. But f*ck me over because I’ll get over. It. Right?

Hold your family accountable.

Don’t you hate when they pretend to know you? What you’ll say? What you’ll do? No. You have no idea who I am because it wouldn’t be so easy to write me off as being inconsiderate, mean, or having an attitude. But, you know better, right? You know what I do, right? You know what I say, right? Back up a taste. Do YOU know you? Do you know what YOU say? Do you know what YOU do? How do you show up in a room? We all cannot be lying. It’s you.

When will family call themselves out? Hold themselves accountable?

It has taken years for me to accept that I don’t have to put up with relatives just because they are “family”. I’ve seen and heard enough. I now know how it has affected me; part, present, and future me. I’m carrying the generational burden of neglect, loneliness, grief, lies, regret, anger, depression, separation, and envy.

I’m carrying being left by a young mother who wanted nothing to do with her past life. I’m carrying young faces watching the backs of absent fathers. I’m carrying the beef with a parent’s spouse, and it being disregarded because ‘you must respect him/her’. I’m carrying the strike of hands and harsh words of frustrated single mothers. I’m carrying the loss of education and opportunities because ‘my kids have to go with me’. I’m carrying abuse of bodies, physical and verbal, but being taught that it ‘is the best for me’. I’m carrying the burden of women suffering from imposter syndrome, both ways. Not feeling as though they are enough and pretending to be more than what they chalk up to be. Basking in other’s misfortunes and they are suffering!

Please!

Where do we begin to hold our family accountable?

“The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

Unfortunately.

Because every variation of them lives in me.

Til the wrinkled family photo flies,

Ella.