One Thing's True: There's Always A Brand New Day
I feel... warm and fuzzy inside. Is that normal?
Growing up, I never felt like I was part of a family. We were a group of strangers residing under the same roof. The man who held the power was rarely there during the week, and on the weekends he was not someone you wanted to be anywhere around. The woman who was in charge of raising us kids was fragile and broken and we always had to walk on eggshells around her. The eldest of us children was an angry, violent being that filled me with terror. The other of us children was a golden child who could do no wrong and I never understood why. Then there was me, the smallest and youngest, unable to defend itself from the others, which made me a living target.
I never understood families on television where the parents are both involved in their kids' lives and talk to them about things. I never understood why siblings would be there and support each other through good and bad. The concept of a "family" just never made sense to me. Extended families made even less sense, as we rarely saw them growing up, and when we did it was nothing but fighting and drama and screaming at each other because everyone on every side of every argument was always wrong.
I truly believed that you were alone, always going to be alone, having a family was your duty and obligation as a living human whether you wanted one or not, and that's just how it was. I never knew familiies were supposed to be supporting. I never knew they should make you happy and you should want to spend time with them. I never realized other people's families were different.
Well, until I got a lot older. In mid-late high schol, I became best friends with two other people. The three of us were like sisters and with all of the time I spent with them I started to get a glimpse into other families. The one's parents were divorced, yet she still maintained a very close relationship with both parents and her step-mom and step-sister.
When we graduated high school, she drifted off with other newer friends, and I spent a lot more time with the other of our trio. Her family practically adopted me. Her parents treated me like their own daughter, and her (10 years older) sister treated me like her own little sister. It was confusing to me, and I never understood why they were nice to me and why they would include me in family get-togethers. I remember talking to that friend once about how I felt uncomfortable because her parents would always ask me how I was doing and what was new. They would hold conversations and be interested to hear what was going on in my life. At the time, it felt so foreign to me that I thought they were interrogating me. She had to explain to me that parents were supposed to be interested in your life and care because they're your parents! It only made sense! It took me a longer time than I would like to admit to become comfortable with talking to her parents, but after a couple of years I felt safe talking to them about anything, which was a million times more than I could say about talking to my own parents.
Life happened, and that friend and I grew apart, but the lessons remained with me. The more time I spent with my own family, the more I realized our life wasn't normal. Finding my mother in tears after she had fought with my father several times a month was not normal. Constantly being told I wasn't enough and I should give up and become a trophy wife because that was all I would ever be good for was not normal. Being used as a punching bag and being thrown through walls and furniture because someone else was in a bad mood was not normal. Trying to become an emancipated minor because you would do anything to get out of your home situation is not normal. None of that was how a family should act. And the more clear the realization became, the more I resented the people I lived with. I just wish I had realized it a decade before. I was around 20 when it finally fully sunk in.
Looking at it now, things aren't really much better. The golden child got married and is off living a good life, but the rest of us are still here. The eldest child has learned to control his temper (with the help of a certain leafy green plant), which made my life significantly less physically painful, and once every few months we have a good conversation. The ruler of the house is no better than he was. He still reminds me every time I see him that I am a waste of space. He hates the weekends because, and I quote, "there is nothing outside of work for [him]." He doesn't care about anyone other than himself, and everyone who has ever seen us as a "family" knows this. The matriarch is getting worse by the week. She cries almost every day because her husband is a heartless uncaring workaholic who has a smartalec comment for everything and puts down everything everyone else likes. I feel guilty every day because I do everything I can to avoid my father, and my mother knows this and I know it hurts her, but there is nothing I can do. Either I look out for myself and avoid him as much as I can, or I try to make her feel better by letting him push me back to the brink of suicide with his bullshit and watch her be even more upset because she has to watch the man she married destroy the children they had together. I still don't think they should have ever procreated, let alone gotten married. No, that's not a suicidal thought, that is a "her life would have been so much better for it" thought.
I honestly wish they would have gotten divorced years ago. They have come close a couple of times, but I don't think my mother would ever be able to follow through with it. I have joked with her that I would help her learn how online dating works and that we could double date. She actually looked hopeful when I mentioned it. It pains me because if they got divorced then he could be a shut-in workaholic and do whatever he wanted without bringing anyone else down. She would be able to find someone who would treat her with respect and like a human, and quite possibly spend the rest of her days happy with someone else. Wishful thinking, I guess.
Anyway, that's how I grew up, never understanding what being part of a family really felt like. I think, until tonight. See, I know I have mentioned my friend Draco a few times before. I love him like a best friend (and no dating has never been on the table, a straight guy and a straight girl truly can be just friends). We have been friends for a decade, and I was friends with his younger brother for 4 years before Draco and I ever met. They are Jewish and have a Hanukkah every year, and I have been going for about 12 years, so I know most of their extended family. I always enjoyed even just going over to their house to hang out because his parents were always kind to me and the family all got along. Being at their house was always a positive experience. In the past 3-5 years, since falling out of touch with my best friend from before, Draco and I grew closer and I became very close with his family. It didn't hit me how much so until tonight.
I went over to their house tonight to celebrate Rosh Hashanah. I'm not Jewish, or really any religion, but I still feel honored being a part of these events. I am fascinated by religion, specifically traditions and holidays, so I enjoy attending and learning as much as I can about the history and culture behind them. A bunch of family members were there, but not nearly as many as there are at the Hanukkah parties, so it felt more... intimate? close? I don't know a good word to describe it. I went with Draco to pick up his grandmother, and it was the first time I had ever really interacted with her when there wasn't a bunch of people around. She treated me kindly, which surprised me. I'm still used to hostility from just about everyone. I honestly thought I was still just "her grandkid's friend" and a stranger, but instead she treated me much nicer than that. During dinner, his cousin and her 3 kids (ages 4-9) were all super friendly with me. Draco's cousin treats me like an acquiantance friend, like somoene you don't really hang out with or talk to outside of certain events, but when you see each other you get along famously and act like great friends. Her kids treated me with the same respect and admiration as they give Draco and his brother. Draco's parents always make me feel welcome. His mother treats me like the daughter she never had (she only has the two sons), and his father is always ready to give me advice and tell me cool life stories and teach me new things. They always remind me that I am welcome over any time, even though Draco moved into an apartment a year ago. They know nothing of my home life, but I do wonder if they suspect anything or if Draco has told them anything that he knows.
As great as the night was, the realization didn't really hit until I was getting ready to leave. We were standing in the driveway, and Draco's cousin and her kids had just left, and I was talking to Draco, his brother, and his mother. We must have been out there for half an hour or so just chatting and laughing and having a good time. It dawned on me while we stood there that this was what a family probably should feel like. I felt attached to them, in a good way. I want to be around them. I felt honored when they asked me over for the holiday, and they have even invited me over for dinner on Yom Kippur. I realized that the attachment I felt toward Draco and his brother was very much how my friends described their attachment to their own siblings. How I felt toward Draco's parents is how friends have described feeling toward their own parents. It felt... nice.
As soon as I arrived home, I feel back into unpleasant feelings. The realization only made me feel worse about my own so-called family, and then I started to feel guilty for feeling more attached to someone else's family altogether. I am hoping that these feelings go away in time. I felt much better when I was living away at school. My number one priority once I get a job is to move elsewhere. I already have people who are happy to move in with me, I just need income first and we all know how well that is going.
Anyway, I'm not sure why I am posting all of this I guess I just needed to get it off of my chest. It's been bothering me for many years, but after my realization tonight... I am going to see it as a good thing, regardless of how I feel about my own family, because it means that I do have somewhere that I can go and people who consider me family, who are a healthy example of a real family, not what I grew up in.
Growing up, I never felt like I was part of a family. We were a group of strangers residing under the same roof. The man who held the power was rarely there during the week, and on the weekends he was not someone you wanted to be anywhere around. The woman who was in charge of raising us kids was fragile and broken and we always had to walk on eggshells around her. The eldest of us children was an angry, violent being that filled me with terror. The other of us children was a golden child who could do no wrong and I never understood why. Then there was me, the smallest and youngest, unable to defend itself from the others, which made me a living target.
I never understood families on television where the parents are both involved in their kids' lives and talk to them about things. I never understood why siblings would be there and support each other through good and bad. The concept of a "family" just never made sense to me. Extended families made even less sense, as we rarely saw them growing up, and when we did it was nothing but fighting and drama and screaming at each other because everyone on every side of every argument was always wrong.
I truly believed that you were alone, always going to be alone, having a family was your duty and obligation as a living human whether you wanted one or not, and that's just how it was. I never knew familiies were supposed to be supporting. I never knew they should make you happy and you should want to spend time with them. I never realized other people's families were different.
Well, until I got a lot older. In mid-late high schol, I became best friends with two other people. The three of us were like sisters and with all of the time I spent with them I started to get a glimpse into other families. The one's parents were divorced, yet she still maintained a very close relationship with both parents and her step-mom and step-sister.
When we graduated high school, she drifted off with other newer friends, and I spent a lot more time with the other of our trio. Her family practically adopted me. Her parents treated me like their own daughter, and her (10 years older) sister treated me like her own little sister. It was confusing to me, and I never understood why they were nice to me and why they would include me in family get-togethers. I remember talking to that friend once about how I felt uncomfortable because her parents would always ask me how I was doing and what was new. They would hold conversations and be interested to hear what was going on in my life. At the time, it felt so foreign to me that I thought they were interrogating me. She had to explain to me that parents were supposed to be interested in your life and care because they're your parents! It only made sense! It took me a longer time than I would like to admit to become comfortable with talking to her parents, but after a couple of years I felt safe talking to them about anything, which was a million times more than I could say about talking to my own parents.
Life happened, and that friend and I grew apart, but the lessons remained with me. The more time I spent with my own family, the more I realized our life wasn't normal. Finding my mother in tears after she had fought with my father several times a month was not normal. Constantly being told I wasn't enough and I should give up and become a trophy wife because that was all I would ever be good for was not normal. Being used as a punching bag and being thrown through walls and furniture because someone else was in a bad mood was not normal. Trying to become an emancipated minor because you would do anything to get out of your home situation is not normal. None of that was how a family should act. And the more clear the realization became, the more I resented the people I lived with. I just wish I had realized it a decade before. I was around 20 when it finally fully sunk in.
Looking at it now, things aren't really much better. The golden child got married and is off living a good life, but the rest of us are still here. The eldest child has learned to control his temper (with the help of a certain leafy green plant), which made my life significantly less physically painful, and once every few months we have a good conversation. The ruler of the house is no better than he was. He still reminds me every time I see him that I am a waste of space. He hates the weekends because, and I quote, "there is nothing outside of work for [him]." He doesn't care about anyone other than himself, and everyone who has ever seen us as a "family" knows this. The matriarch is getting worse by the week. She cries almost every day because her husband is a heartless uncaring workaholic who has a smartalec comment for everything and puts down everything everyone else likes. I feel guilty every day because I do everything I can to avoid my father, and my mother knows this and I know it hurts her, but there is nothing I can do. Either I look out for myself and avoid him as much as I can, or I try to make her feel better by letting him push me back to the brink of suicide with his bullshit and watch her be even more upset because she has to watch the man she married destroy the children they had together. I still don't think they should have ever procreated, let alone gotten married. No, that's not a suicidal thought, that is a "her life would have been so much better for it" thought.
I honestly wish they would have gotten divorced years ago. They have come close a couple of times, but I don't think my mother would ever be able to follow through with it. I have joked with her that I would help her learn how online dating works and that we could double date. She actually looked hopeful when I mentioned it. It pains me because if they got divorced then he could be a shut-in workaholic and do whatever he wanted without bringing anyone else down. She would be able to find someone who would treat her with respect and like a human, and quite possibly spend the rest of her days happy with someone else. Wishful thinking, I guess.
Anyway, that's how I grew up, never understanding what being part of a family really felt like. I think, until tonight. See, I know I have mentioned my friend Draco a few times before. I love him like a best friend (and no dating has never been on the table, a straight guy and a straight girl truly can be just friends). We have been friends for a decade, and I was friends with his younger brother for 4 years before Draco and I ever met. They are Jewish and have a Hanukkah every year, and I have been going for about 12 years, so I know most of their extended family. I always enjoyed even just going over to their house to hang out because his parents were always kind to me and the family all got along. Being at their house was always a positive experience. In the past 3-5 years, since falling out of touch with my best friend from before, Draco and I grew closer and I became very close with his family. It didn't hit me how much so until tonight.
I went over to their house tonight to celebrate Rosh Hashanah. I'm not Jewish, or really any religion, but I still feel honored being a part of these events. I am fascinated by religion, specifically traditions and holidays, so I enjoy attending and learning as much as I can about the history and culture behind them. A bunch of family members were there, but not nearly as many as there are at the Hanukkah parties, so it felt more... intimate? close? I don't know a good word to describe it. I went with Draco to pick up his grandmother, and it was the first time I had ever really interacted with her when there wasn't a bunch of people around. She treated me kindly, which surprised me. I'm still used to hostility from just about everyone. I honestly thought I was still just "her grandkid's friend" and a stranger, but instead she treated me much nicer than that. During dinner, his cousin and her 3 kids (ages 4-9) were all super friendly with me. Draco's cousin treats me like an acquiantance friend, like somoene you don't really hang out with or talk to outside of certain events, but when you see each other you get along famously and act like great friends. Her kids treated me with the same respect and admiration as they give Draco and his brother. Draco's parents always make me feel welcome. His mother treats me like the daughter she never had (she only has the two sons), and his father is always ready to give me advice and tell me cool life stories and teach me new things. They always remind me that I am welcome over any time, even though Draco moved into an apartment a year ago. They know nothing of my home life, but I do wonder if they suspect anything or if Draco has told them anything that he knows.
As great as the night was, the realization didn't really hit until I was getting ready to leave. We were standing in the driveway, and Draco's cousin and her kids had just left, and I was talking to Draco, his brother, and his mother. We must have been out there for half an hour or so just chatting and laughing and having a good time. It dawned on me while we stood there that this was what a family probably should feel like. I felt attached to them, in a good way. I want to be around them. I felt honored when they asked me over for the holiday, and they have even invited me over for dinner on Yom Kippur. I realized that the attachment I felt toward Draco and his brother was very much how my friends described their attachment to their own siblings. How I felt toward Draco's parents is how friends have described feeling toward their own parents. It felt... nice.
As soon as I arrived home, I feel back into unpleasant feelings. The realization only made me feel worse about my own so-called family, and then I started to feel guilty for feeling more attached to someone else's family altogether. I am hoping that these feelings go away in time. I felt much better when I was living away at school. My number one priority once I get a job is to move elsewhere. I already have people who are happy to move in with me, I just need income first and we all know how well that is going.
Anyway, I'm not sure why I am posting all of this I guess I just needed to get it off of my chest. It's been bothering me for many years, but after my realization tonight... I am going to see it as a good thing, regardless of how I feel about my own family, because it means that I do have somewhere that I can go and people who consider me family, who are a healthy example of a real family, not what I grew up in.