I’ve written about this before; my maternal family is so fucked. It’s very rare that I’ll put up more than one post in a day on this blog, I tend to prefer to space things out. As it happens, my maternal grandmother decided to shoot me an email this morning. I haven’t spoken to my mother since May 2010, at which point I texted her to tell her not to ever contact me or my father again. I’m very rarely moved by the fact that she exists, except to lament the loss of potential.
Her crazy is shared by almost all of her family. I have so very few good memories of any of them when I was young, maybe because it all got blotted out by all the fucked up, violent, hateful things that happened.
For whatever reason, several of the nicer, more caring ones have attempted to have relationships, contact me, etc. The only ones who haven’t given me just cause to write them off are my cousin K and my aunt S *Edit* AND COUSIN D SORRY I FORGOT . You know who you are. Thanks for not being dicks.
This is specifically about my grandmother and my aunt. They’re the ones who’ve made the most recent advances toward us having a relationship. I was finding myself less and less comfortable with being around them and talking to them, especially since I can’t stand for bullshit anymore and have a hard time keeping my mouth shut.
As many of you know, Chris and I got married in October, on the 12th. We did not tell anyone but a few close friends beforehand because we didn’t want it to be a big deal, and because it’s weird that getting married is such a public affair for most people. After we left the courthouse, we came home and changed our relationship status on Facebook and that was pretty much how we announced to all our friends that we were married.
It was probably that night or the day after that my aunt Jessica texted me. There were several back-and-forths and I couldn’t tell you the specific content of any of the messages. The main thing that sticks out is that she said she wished I’d told her beforehand because she would have tried to talk me out of it. Below is a message I sent to her on Facebook about a week later (as you can see, it’s dated 10-22).
Why anyone would start off an email that ends with “I’m letting you go” with “How the heck are you, anyway”? is beyond me. She stresses repeatedly how rude I was, although as I said I did everything in my power to remain cordial and simply wanted to communicate my hurt feelings. I’m pretty sure at this point that Jessica does not take what I said seriously, possibly because she has no fucking idea where I’m coming from.
I hurt her deeply. Yes. Because Jessica’s hurt feelings supersede how fucking insanely rude it was to tell me she would have talked me out of one of the most important, well-thought-out decisions I’ve ever made.
You’re not happy that I didn’t tell you I was getting married? Did you not get the part where we didn’t fucking tell anybody? I stressed to Jessica and I’ve stressed it to everyone over and over that people shouldn’t feel left out for some reason because we chose to disclose the information to only people we needed to conduct the ceremony. Otherwise every single person we know would have been surprised. We chose two of our best friends whom we trusted and wanted to share this moment with us. Again, if it hadn’t been necessary and if you didn’t have to pay for witnesses at the courthouse, we probably would have told absolutely no one until afterward.
If you’ve kept up with my blog, you’d know that I’ve been considering my name change for a while. It’s been much longer than even the existence of this blog. I’ve always hated “Elizabeth” and I started employing nicknames of my own design in seventh grade. When I was twelve. Seven years ago. The concept that I’d change my name to escape the attention of my mother is ludicrous and an insult to both my intelligence and my integrity. CLEARLY I’m already safe from her influence because I’m an adult.
I learned quite well from my mother. Comparing to my mother seems to be a favourite thing my maternal family does any time I seem rude to them. Every time it’s happened I’ve been being reasonable and rational. For some reason, people construe that in text as rudeness. Telling me that I’m like my mother is nothing but an attempt to undermine me and make me feel bad about myself.
I chose Chris over my family. NO FUCKING WONDER I picked someone who loves me unconditionally, who has never abused me, who didn’t fuck up my childhood by being incredibly dysfunctional.
Respect others and their opinions. What about respecting me? That’s the whole point of the entire thing! And what about not just disrespecting opinions, but important decisions? In what way could “I would have tried to talk you out of it” not be disrespectful and hurtful and rude? These people are fucking ridiculous and I’m done with them. Aunt S and Cousin K have done nothing to slight me and they are therefore the exception to the rule. Otherwise, fuck all these people. I’m so tired of being shamed for being who I am because I hold genetic and conditioned similarities to my mother. Similarities which I don’t and have never denied, and actually embrace at times because they make me who I am.
Je suis comme je suis. Je n’ai pas de regrets.