But you can’t pick your family!
Ain’t that the truth.
I got pretty lucky, in the family lottery though. My parents are the elite, my sister and I are close, and I’ve got some cute friggin nephews.
And I’m not just saying that because we’re blood – they’re friggin cute. I’d put pictures up but you creeps might try to steal them, then I’d have to put a boot in everyone’s a$$ – it just wouldn’t end well.
I’ve been trying to figure out a way to diplomatically write about the rift in my extended family without offending anyone or disregarding other people’s point of view, but I think that might be almost impossible. Especially because when you see things one way, it’s nearly impossible to see another person’s point of view. It makes it increasingly difficult to know what’s on someone’s mind when they ignore the proverbial “Elephant in the Room”, and doesn’t talk about their “issues”.
In a nutshell, I don’t like a member of my extended family. Rather than just leaving it alone, other members of my family pressed the issue so much the dislike turned into venom. After that, existing grievances came to light, etc, etc, etc.
In my experience, you have to love your family – but you don’t have to like them. And when you take a “Type A” personality like mine, and try to force me to do something….you’re basically shutting the valve to any reasoning.
If the situation simply stayed between me and the actual parties, there wouldn’t be so much of a problem. God Forbid adults act like adults – that’s just crazy talk (again, I’m not saying I’m the most mature person in the world, but sometimes enough is enough).
Instead, it has festered and gotten bigger, to a point where the only thing I can equate it to is a big, disgusting boil that grows and grows. And you touch it. You know you’re not supposed to, but you do.
One day that boil is going to blow the f-ck up. And who’s going to get covered in the vile pus when it does?
The thing about words is, you can’t take them back. Once I say something mean, even if I apologize – I still said it. And you’re going to remember the day I called you a mean name, or said your dog was ugly or something. Things said out of anger are said with the intention of hurting someone, even if we don’t want to admit that, and the nicest people are cruel when pushed enough.
With family, you know the insecurities that your relatives have. And you know how to hurt them. My father and I have the uncanny ability to see someone’s vulnerability shortly after meeting them, so imagine what years of research can do.
Hopefully no one says or does anything they regret, there’s nothing more tragic than not telling someone you love them, even if they’re being a d!ck, and then not having the opportunity to do so.
My mom said to me the other day that there’s no way I can judge or draw a conclusion on someone else’s relationship because I’m not in the mix (ok, she didn’t say “in the mix”, she’s a little more eloquent than that), I can just draw an opinion. And opinions are like a$$holes, right? We’ve all got one, most stink, yaddi yaddi yada.
Eff that. I’m right. Everyone else is wrong. And if they disagree, they can pound sand (I LOVE that expression. Pound sand. Hilarious)