I grew up in a big family, even bigger now, as I have just been introduced to a new uncle yesterday—thanks, Grandpa—but I will keep it concentrated on the children of my grandmothers for this conversation; both of my parents had eight siblings from their mothers. That meant I grew up with a lot of cousins. I am pretty fond of most of them. With 10 aunts and six uncles between my parents, which also meant that I grew up with a lot of external love, a lot of hugs, and a few eye rolls. After my parents split, I still spent time with my father’s side of the family, but most of my interaction was with my mother’s siblings. During the summers, I would go to Chicago to visit my dad and we would take family trips “down south” to see his relatives.
The family dynamics of adult children & their interaction w/ their elders is interesting. The older generation still demands respect even when they were disrespectful to you in your childhood, with no accountability. The people who were here shorter are expected to behave better.
— 40 year old Virginia Slims (@Kyla_Lacey) September 24, 2023
My father grew up in rural Arkansas, where responding “yes,” to having your name called instead of saying “ma’am,” or “sir,” was considered insubordination and unbecoming of a child.
Neither my mother nor father required this of me and so I defiantly but politely would respond, “yes,” whenever I heard my name in the form of a request. Maybe this was the beginning of my disdain for tyranny beginning to show itself. The main purveyor of “you must say ma’am…or else,” was my father’s twin sister. Genealogy would call her my aunt, but I won’t. My father and I have not always had the best relationship, but he’s never done anything to me that I would call malicious, except for that one time when he was egged on to anger by the same twin sister who had been giving everyone hell since she slinked right behind him out of the womb. The two have rarely gotten along, and permanent drastic childhood injuries they have both sustained are attributed to their ongoing discord. Even if the rumors are not true, the fact that their lack of cohesiveness goes back to their early childhood should tell you all you need to know. Standing next to them, you would not even suspect they were siblings, let alone twins, and when I remarked about how my father got all the good-looking genes—the man with a wit so caustic it can burn a hole in your day—admonished me for not being nice.
And I wonder why, ’cause he don’t even like this lady.
In fact, I don’t think any of her siblings really like her; they just deal with her on different levels, and somehow, because they managed to deal with her all this time, we should have to manage, too. Hell no….ma’am. When my father told me to be nice regarding my comment, I quickly reminded him that she is not nice and that she abused and lied on children. A child of another relative was once put in her care and all of us watched her abuse a toddler in real time, quieting our own varied triggered levels of trauma because we feared our own punishment or our age disallowed us a voice in the matter either way. My father’s sister was allowed to terrorize (including physical abuse), several children in our family, not just her own, without being held accountable by her siblings, and somehow their children are still expected to say hello to Satan at family functions, and Satan is still invited.
After my grandmother’s funeral over 15 years ago, she both pulled my father aside and phoned my mother to tell them how awful their daughter behaved because she did not speak to her aunt.
They both blew her off.
I was an adult with two jobs and my own apartment at the time. I wish I could say that is the only family drama that I have had on either side concerning funerals, but it is not, in fact, much worse. But for the sake of brevity, I will say there are multiple family members on both sides that I currently refuse to speak to. Two of them who have expressed a desire for me to talk to them are aunts. My father’s sister, I desire to speak with the least, but the other one has rightfully earned her designation of being someone with whom I no longer speak and she is, even without accountability, fully aware.
As I age and am old enough to have had children who are adults themselves (barely), I appreciate the peace that my mother has given me by not forcing my kindness, at least as an adult, on people who have harmed me as a child. She and I don’t really speak to the same people on her side of the family for the exact same reasons they harmed her and they harmed her child. The most interesting thing about the family members on both sides of my family, whom I feel are the most toxic, is that everyone generally agrees, but few refuse to be actional about it. Maybe because after my parents split and my mother and I moved away, I grew up six hours away from my closest blood relative, so my perspective on family closeness is different because I view it as a choice.
It finally happened… I popped when my aunt asked about my weight for the upteenth time. Almost everytime she sees me she says I look like I lost weight, FOR YEARS. I’m in sweatpants and a baggy shirt. I’m the same weight I was the last 5 times she said it.
— 40 year old Virginia Slims (@Kyla_Lacey) September 24, 2023
Every single solitary toxic person on this earth is related to someone and just because a few of them are related to me, that does not mean that I have to digest their abusive behaviors simply because we have shared DNA. If the people with whom they associate outside of the family have the same/similar complaints, why is it okay for them to discontinue their interaction but not people who are related to them?
I am the kindest to people in my family because I feel they deserve more respect, but that does not mean they deserve to be more disrespectful. I hope for my future kids’ sake that I can support their decision to not associate with people who have harmed them, even in my own family. Black families have a f-cked up standard of allowing the abuse of someone in an older generation to go unpunished, but the person in the younger generation is supposed to be the bigger and more emotionally mature one. HOW SWAY?! Just because we are blood does not mean you get to make me bleed without a fight.
