reposted from facebook-- Fuck Florida (the sequel)
Jason and I are married. We are happy. People keep telling me how happy we look together, and they are sure that we are going to last. While suffering through my grandfather’s funeral, I can’t help but look to my husband, not only for strength, but for tenderness. Honestly, looking at him makes me feel less hateful in that place, less lonely, and less frustrated. I wrote my grandfather’s eulogy and I worked at it. I worked to honor my grandfather because my grandfather’s memory was not the priority of the people attending his ceremonies. My distant family came to me, at least a few times, to tell me how they enjoyed what I wrote and that my speech was much improved from my grandmother’s funeral.
The reason for that is easy and two-fold: I didn’t write my grandmother’s eulogy and I loved my grandfather. I was duty-bound to my grandmother. I realized this trip that I love very few people but am duty-bound to many. The idea of doing Thanksgiving with my mother is something I want to do because I love her, but the idea of doing it with the rest of my family is because I cannot escape them.
My uncle suggested that Jason and I were so happy because we were in love, and I was quick to correct him. Being in love is not the reason our marriage is successful, though we are in love. Our marriage is successful because we have an understanding that we should be better than we are. We respect one another--our relationship is based on how we TREAT one another. Love has nothing to do with that. Many people get married with the false belief that love is somehow enough to sustain the relationship. The examples we have of disrespect and cruelty at the hands of those who “love” you should teach us that love is an emotion that people cannot be bound to, while a pact, a commitment, is a verbal contract that people can be measured against.
This is the basis for all of my relationships. I make commitment to that person, and as long as that person wished to be in a relationship with me, I will work to be kind, understanding, and upfront with that person. I’m not saying it is easy, but it is what one should do with the person you want to have a lifelong relationship with. I believe that it is the most dastardly copout to say that family should be excused when they are cruel, lying, or thoughtless. My cousin said that your family should be the people that can do that to you and you forgive them every time because you love them. I say love has nothing to do with it. I can’t determine whether or not I am loved. I can determine how I am treated. I believe family is the place where you are expected to do better, better than you treat your friends, better than you treat your colleagues, better than you treat your latest jumpoff. Why? Simply because we have a pact. The home should be a safe space where the person can reveal the fullness of themselves without fear of having that attacked. Where do I regroup after I’ve battled strangers if I have to battle my family too?
I shouldn’t want to escape my family, but there is nothing more pleasurable to me than passing through the security gate on my way back to my home.
I wonder if I’ve become hardened to my family over the years because when I get upset with them, all I ever feel is bitterness rise in my throat. I wonder if it’s problematic to be so divorced from them that the idea of moving back to NYC makes me instantly want to vomit. I wonder if they realize that the truth of our relationship has nothing to do with what they say, because in my family, words don't mean shit. People say things and more than half the time pay no attention to what they’ve said, how it’s perceived, or what they have committed to. The truth of our relationship is in the actions. I don’t call. I don’t visit. I don’t really intend to either. They don’t intend to call or visit. I’m actually quite fine about that. Let’s “love” each other from 800 miles away. I am too sensitive, they say. I may be. But I am earnest. I hold them to the standard I hold myself, my friends, my husband. If they don’t measure up, I feel justifiably upset. Do better. Do better. If that could be on my epitaph, I would be happy.
Stop talking empty bullshit. Do better. Want better. If you can’t or don’t want to, then please step out of my way.
The reason for that is easy and two-fold: I didn’t write my grandmother’s eulogy and I loved my grandfather. I was duty-bound to my grandmother. I realized this trip that I love very few people but am duty-bound to many. The idea of doing Thanksgiving with my mother is something I want to do because I love her, but the idea of doing it with the rest of my family is because I cannot escape them.
My uncle suggested that Jason and I were so happy because we were in love, and I was quick to correct him. Being in love is not the reason our marriage is successful, though we are in love. Our marriage is successful because we have an understanding that we should be better than we are. We respect one another--our relationship is based on how we TREAT one another. Love has nothing to do with that. Many people get married with the false belief that love is somehow enough to sustain the relationship. The examples we have of disrespect and cruelty at the hands of those who “love” you should teach us that love is an emotion that people cannot be bound to, while a pact, a commitment, is a verbal contract that people can be measured against.
This is the basis for all of my relationships. I make commitment to that person, and as long as that person wished to be in a relationship with me, I will work to be kind, understanding, and upfront with that person. I’m not saying it is easy, but it is what one should do with the person you want to have a lifelong relationship with. I believe that it is the most dastardly copout to say that family should be excused when they are cruel, lying, or thoughtless. My cousin said that your family should be the people that can do that to you and you forgive them every time because you love them. I say love has nothing to do with it. I can’t determine whether or not I am loved. I can determine how I am treated. I believe family is the place where you are expected to do better, better than you treat your friends, better than you treat your colleagues, better than you treat your latest jumpoff. Why? Simply because we have a pact. The home should be a safe space where the person can reveal the fullness of themselves without fear of having that attacked. Where do I regroup after I’ve battled strangers if I have to battle my family too?
I shouldn’t want to escape my family, but there is nothing more pleasurable to me than passing through the security gate on my way back to my home.
I wonder if I’ve become hardened to my family over the years because when I get upset with them, all I ever feel is bitterness rise in my throat. I wonder if it’s problematic to be so divorced from them that the idea of moving back to NYC makes me instantly want to vomit. I wonder if they realize that the truth of our relationship has nothing to do with what they say, because in my family, words don't mean shit. People say things and more than half the time pay no attention to what they’ve said, how it’s perceived, or what they have committed to. The truth of our relationship is in the actions. I don’t call. I don’t visit. I don’t really intend to either. They don’t intend to call or visit. I’m actually quite fine about that. Let’s “love” each other from 800 miles away. I am too sensitive, they say. I may be. But I am earnest. I hold them to the standard I hold myself, my friends, my husband. If they don’t measure up, I feel justifiably upset. Do better. Do better. If that could be on my epitaph, I would be happy.
Stop talking empty bullshit. Do better. Want better. If you can’t or don’t want to, then please step out of my way.