Prostokvasha

[30 November, 2008]

Drama is a fact of life

'Tis the truth: I have trouble with all things relating to family/ies. Namely, in family circles, especially close-knit ones, I feel a fish out of water. I get confused about who I am, who I am supposed to be. I feel sub par, frazzled, desperate to fit in. It's silly and exhausting, really.

Family holidays, therefore, are hard for me. It is a non-stop full-weekend energy blast in an attempt to be someone I think/want to be for everyone, and a reminder of utter dysfunction on my side of familial things. To which I also give much of my energy in order to keep relations as peaceful as can be. As you can see, family affairs are draining draining feats.

With J's family, where we spend most of the American holidays, things are interesting. He is the baby of the family, the youngest of essentially 4. His mom clearly still views and treats him as such, and it is a strange dynamic to enter into. What is the role of the wife of the baby of the family? And how do you play it? Clearly, being the wife of any man whose mother is still alive is a difficult undertaking... Inevitably, you end up competing for attention, whether literally or inadvertently. I guess I am still learning to fit myself into this particular group dynamic, but let me tell you, this learning ain't easy.

Then comes the part of the holiday where I remember and reflect upon the mess that is my side of the family. And get sick to my stomach. And then drink lots of wine. I think about how much effort I put forth to sustain a humane relationship with my mom, and how she makes it ever-so hard. I mean, it's the same ol' story, and yet I never get immune to it. Her conditional love, manipulation, and emotional rejection never get old. This also made uneasy by the fact that I have very few close friends in the area. Or very few close friends I talk to anymore.

On that happy and uplifting note: Yay, Holiday Cheer! Hope you remembered to be thankful that Native Americans saved the Brits' asses once upon a time, and also for whatever other things you may be thankful for. Like maybe that time your cat didn't piss all over the bathroom mat?

2 sighs or salutations:

Jeremy Diakonov-Curtis | 03 December, 2008

as much as dysfunctional family/ies go don't go calling your husband the baby of the family. it might be better to say the runt, or the youngest, but no married man wants to be called the baby. especially because it reminds him of the times his mom says "oh i just can't believe my baby is married." uggh utter disgust.

daria | 08 December, 2008

haha, sorry to have embarrassed you in front of my vast audience. but see, your mom views you as such, so where does it leave me?? let's dwell on that, shall we?

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