The reminders are all over the place. Of my past, of my present, of the weight of the responsibility I have on my shoulders. I can’t seem to get away. The only time I feel okay is when I’m out doing things or distracting myself. And I know that is okay, and that is can be a good thing to give myself a break but it’s just so hard when something gut-punches you back to reality.
It’s so stupid. My niece, who just turned 14, has a “boyfriend”. Their mom sent me a pic of them together at the kitchen table and it was adorable. I thought little of it after that. She has a mother… I’m not her mother. I’m not her parent. I serve a supporting role but certain decisions about the way she is raised are not for me to make and I wouldn’t feel comfortable making them anyway.
That being said, I understand that my brother (and to a degree myself) feel responsible for my niece and nephew now that their dad is gone – another reminder, I’m still working through this reality. My brother J obviously feels like he needs to look out for them, especially my niece. And especially as they go through puberty, approach high school, and and all that super fun stuff. I get all that.
I guess it’s just my perspective to give their mother the benefit of the doubt to handle most of it. So when my brother made me call him, I already knew what it was about and I didn’t want to have this conversation, but of course.. what I want rarely matters when it comes to my family.
Bro: We need to talk about Ava and her “boyfriend”. She asked if he could come to the lake house with us in a couple weeks. Would you be okay if he came to the lake house and spent the night? Like do you think that’s appropriate?
Me: Sure, as long as they have permission from parents and we keep an eye on them – I’m pretty sure it’s fine? I’m not super concerned.
Bro: Hm. I mean, I don’t think it’s okay, but whatever.
Me: That’s fine, its’ your house, you get to decide. Just tell her honestly that it’s a family event and not this time?
Bro: Okay, but we need to ask their mom whether she’s on birth control or we need to get her on birth control asap. She can’t get pregnant as a teen.
My heart sinks…
Me: Yeah, I understand what you’re saying…
At this point, I know trying to convince him that this is their mom’s responsibility will go no where. He and my parents always come from the lens that their mother is an untrustworthy and incapable parent who makes poor life decisions. I can’t argue with it.. I know why they think this and maybe I’m the one who is naive by giving her the benefit of the doubt. I guess I just want to believe in people. Maybe I shouldn’t. Getting pregnant at an early age would be a pretty shit “lesson to learn” because no one stepped in and asked a few questions. I get it.
Bro: Well, can we get her on an IUD? ….
The rest of the conversation was about birth control types. A convo I never thought I’d be having with my brother. It felt intrusive and gross and I wanted to get off the phone as quickly as possible. I’m not squeamish about this stuff… but… something about this whole situation just felt wrong.
Bro: Okay so… will you talk to their mom? I mean I will if I have to but I kiiinda feel like this more of a girl conversation….
Me: Yeah its fine. I’ll take care of it.
More to do. More to be responsible for, no problem. I will mediate between their mom and my family while respecting everyone’s opinion and boundaries (and thinking of my niece’s autonomy in this as well) – piece of cake, right?
The next hour and a half I spent toiling over the situation. I decided to write their mom an email, written word is sometimes easier to express complicated or delicate topics than over the phone. I needed to craft an email that didn’t sound too intrusive, the right amount of delicate, the right amount of feigning ignorance because I’m not a parent, the right amount of clarity around respecting her boundaries as their parent… and deep down knowing that no matter how I put this – she might still feel like I was over-stepping boundaries and I might get to experience a mother’s rage and have to talk my way out of that as well. But I finally got to a good enough place, and I nervously sent the email.
And then, intense nausea and I immediately started to have an uncontrollable panic attack.
I thought I was handling it. I thought I was breathing through it. I thought I felt good about what I wrote – but the body does not lie, does it? Something was wrong about this whole thing and I couldn’t figure out what.
The previous day I had to go out w/ my parents for lunch. I hated it. In the car, my dad brought up the same topic. My niece’s boyfriend.
“Do you know what she did to us already? She asked if her boyfriend could come over to the house and then her birthday party!”
Wow, how dare she? I thought to myself. Your grandkid wants to have someone over who makes her feel good and comforted… how dare she put you in that position.
I said nothing. I had no response for his comment.
And so today, after I wrote that email, what I had been painstakingly containing, came flooding up. I remember being her age… I remember feeling utterly controlled by this man. I wasn’t allowed to even get a call from a boy because it would be seen as “my fault”. How dare I require that my dad be an actual functioning parent to me for one god damn minute – not even a parent, just a fucking mature adult person. How dare he allow one ounce of trust in my ability to make good choices, when I had never done anything to show otherwise. How dare I exist.
I spent the the rest of my time living under their roof (and beyond that) completely hiding any relationship I had. I never spoke about any of it. There was no sex talk because I was essentially not allowed to date anyone – my sexuality did not exist. Maybe I could have been open about dating someone, but in my head, I did not want to deal with the intense and controlling gaze of my father – the potential for harm was not worth the risk. And here it was again…except now I’m an adult and now it’s directed at my niece.
Oh fuck..
Just realized, it’s also that…. the day he beat me really bad… I had accidentally scratched him… and after he got off me and was downstairs… he yelled at me “Look what you did to me!”
Look what you did to me!
Look what you did to me!
Look what you did to me!
Look what you did to me!
Look what you did to me!
Look what you did to me!
Look what you did to me!
Look what “I” did to him…. he was the victim. I made him angry enough to hit me, it was my fault any of it happened. If he is ever angry or upset, it is my fault… or my mother’s.
While I stewed in silence in the car, he tried to make a joke or comment about having a quinceanera for her. (Like a sweet 16 but at 15 in Mexico) and I wanted to puke. It just brings up so many bad memories.
The night before all of this I had one of the worst rape dreams I’ve ever had… not because of the violence, but because of the realism of what I felt. I felt every fucking bodily sensation and in the dream – I was a kid. I was not okay the next day – but it doesn’t matter does it?
So, not such a random panic attack I suppose. That’s why even though I am trying to stay upright.. I can’t stop sinking and crying.
And you know what’s fucked up? I sat here crying today in bed by myself – trying to muffle my sobs so R did not hear. And for a moment, just a moment, the part of me that’s trying to let people in, trying to grow and heal, entertained a thought, “Hey.. what if you let R be with you and comfort you?” I pictured him hugging me as I cried and the image was immediately dashed by an intense and guttural growl, like a tiger.. or wolf… leaping between me and anyone who might get close. It was protective, angry, violent, and completely serious…
“Don’t fucking touch her.”
It scared me. And I realized how completely cut off I am from letting anyone get near me when I’m vulnerable. And that man, did this to me. That person I’m supposed to call father, who forces hugs on me, who acts like he cares about me… he did this to me.
Sometimes I crave a warm and comforting touch so bad it hurts because I haven’t felt it in so long. Because parts won’t allow me to feel it… because it’s not safe. So I feel like I exist in a cage apart from everyone. And I see them trying to put my niece in the same cage and it freaks me out.
The cage prevents anyone from seeing you as a capable person or seeing you at all
The cage locks down any hope of an intimate relationship because no one can get close enough
The cage takes away your right to discover and explore your own sexuality in a healthy way
The cage takes away your autonomy because you do not hold the key….
I grew up in a cage and I guess seeing those old thought patterns in both my father and to a degree, my brother… beyond triggering. Nauseating. Disappointing. Stressful.
So, I’m left with trying to protect my niece in more ways than one. From the destructive tendencies in our family she doesn’t know anything about and should never know and from a scary world that is in fact dangerous and treats women unfairly. And yet, I have to maintain my distance and make everyone happy. And with all this and more… there is no room for “me”.
***
Unsettling dreams again. Themes like a family losing a son to drowning. Being in water… my ”siblings” hugging me as we are in the same waters our brother drowned in. We are all naked for some reason in the water. My “brothers” press go to hug me and I can feel them pressing their genitals up a against me.. it’s uncomfortable.
And then this…
I’m 5 and I’m at school. I’m sitting at a desk along with a classroom full of other kids. It’s bright and cheerful in the room. I raise my hand. The teacher calls on me. She’s one of my favorite teachers – Ms Morken
As I put my hand down I innocently ask, “What’s the difference between child sexual abuse by your family versus by a stranger?”
I am a passive observer in this dream – I did not know “I” was going to ask this.
The teacher stifles and the class giggles.
She says, “Well… um… with strangers those are bad things that happen outside and with family that happens in creepy places like the attic… let’s move along…”
I pictured my own attic, which I like, perplexed. She didn’t really answer my question. Not in the way I wanted…but she wants to move on with class so I keep my mouth shut.
That’s the end of the dream.
What are you trying to tell me? Or is it that which you already know but refuse to acknowledge.
Remember at your brother’s celebration event after he passed… when you held your cousin C’s baby for a minute and her brother….him…. that cousin…. came up to you nervously and said, “That baby looks good on you, when are you going to have kids?”
My insides turned to ice and I looked down.. and uncomfortably laughed.
Always reminders.