I must confess… I am writing this on Wednesday night, because I have a doctors appointment Thursday morning and then karate for my son in the afternoon. I’ll have no time at all to write, so… I’m doing it tonight so as I don’t fall behind. Forgive me…
Let’s see… Throwback Thursday… a story from my childhood that might help you all get to know me a little better.
I am the youngest of 3 children. Growing up, I have no idea what happened, but we all kind of went our separate ways. Looking back, it’s as though a tornado went through our family and I cannot say it’s through no fault of my own. How I got to that point… well, I now know, but I don’t think anyone would really understand, so I’m not even going to try to explain it. I will take full responsibility for the part I played in the destruction of my family, and I the only thing I can do is sincerely apologize, which I have done on several occasions. But anyway…
I was told numerous times NOT to write about my family members on the internet, because I made the mistake of venting my feelings on Fakebook, creating quite a mess of things, but how can I tell a story of my childhood without including my siblings?
I grew up in a neighborhood full of boys and was therefore a Tomboy. It wasn’t until I was in my EARLY teens I believe, that some girls finally moved in, so for the first years of my life I hung out with the guys. They would constantly remind me that I fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, in comparison to my siblings. Both of my older siblings were close to each other because they were close in age. My sister (the oldest) was absolutely beautiful, and I would go to bed at night secretly praying that I’d grow up to look just like her. I had 2 boyfriends actually admit that they dated me just to get a chance to see or maybe even TALK with my sister. By the time I reached junior high, I just knew… it wasn’t happening. I was “stuck” with what I had… a large nose, a big forehead, ears that stuck out and to top it all off, I was more interested in staying home reading a book than going out to parties (heh-hem…introvert). My brother? One of the cool, popular kids at school, strikingly handsome, and although we weren’t close, I always felt the need to protect him. I’m a girl. I know what girls are capable of. So, when I heard “rumors” that his girlfriends were cheating, I’d tell him, so he’d break up with them. He never believed me, and chose them over me, but it’s okay. Sometimes we have to learn the hard way. I’m happy to say that I’m the one who introduced him to his new bride. They have my blessing in every way. They are a match made in heaven, literally.
Anyway, I saw how often my siblings went out and I saw what their partying ways did to my parents. I didn’t want to do that. So, I chose to spend my time alone in my room, pretending to be happy, while my brother and sister would go out for a night on the town with all of their friends. Jealous? Very much so. But I couldn’t let THEM know that. That’d mean they won. Nope… fine. You go out and piss off mom and dad by staying out past curfew. I’m quite content listening to the top 10 at 10:00 on the radio and pretending to be happy. This went on for YEARS. In fact, it may still reside in me today. I’m working on that. But I never fit in. I look at them both today, and I’m genuinely happy for their success and happiness. My sister, now a mother of 2 and in her 40’s is still absolutely gorgeous, and my brother, a father of one, still handsome as ever, are good people. They had no idea what I was feeling growing up because I didn’t vocalize it. Instead I internalized it and it grew into anger, and hatred, and jealousy. I sincerely hope that since I have acknowledged these things I have purged them from my mind. When I think of their success, I’m no longer jealous, but happy. Happy for them and their families. I wonder how different things would have turned out had I talked to them way back when and confessed how I felt. I don’t know that things would have changed because the last thing either of them wanted was their annoying little sister hanging around, who would go home and tell mom and dad of all their bad behaviors. But maybe as they got older, they’d start to understand.
Well, this was what came to mind when I took a moment to think back. If I could have a do-over, I’d definitely take it, knowing what I know now of course. If I could sit them down alone, and explain myself to them, maybe they’d understand. But as I said, we’ve grown so distant, I don’t know that this would ever be an option. Unfortunately, I can no longer attend a family function and slap a smile on my face and pretend all is well. In fact, I’m no longer welcome to contact one of them, and the other will talk to me, but has made it very clear that their family consists of who lives under their roof. At this point, I’ll take what I can get. Like I said, it’s through no fault but my own.
I wish them both the best in life. I hope they are as happy as they claim to be. Sometimes I worry. I hear stories passed down second and third hand, and I pray that whatever the problem is, they over come it and move forward. I have no ill will toward either of them. And in all honesty, miss the conversations, as fake as they were. I miss my nieces and nephew. I miss the days of all of us sitting around the table for dinner and “What’s said at this table, stay’s at this table.” I miss throwing dog poo and rotten apples at the obnoxious road hogging bikers. I miss so much, yet, I have no choice but to keep moving forward. If we are meant to be a family, we will get back to being one. If not, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.
I have to admit, knowing that I have all of the anxiety disorders I have, in mid panic attack, hearing “Oh, Katie, just get over it already and get in the car” has me a bit hesitant. If my siblings ever want to truly know who I am, they have to be a little bit more open minded. Instead of accepting the fact that I might just have a (or several) mental illnesses, they are convinced I’m that good at manipulating, that I’ve got several doctors and 2 judges convinced. Yea… they don’t know me at all. I hope that someday they’ll want to get to know the real me. The Kate, who despite all the family drama and hurtful accusations, would drop everything in the case of an emergency. The Kate who prays for them when she goes to bed at night. The Kate who wishes she were as close to them as they were to each other. But, “I’m just a piece of string… drifting across the floor with no destination. I don’t even belong to a ball of yarn. I’m an extra piece that was cut off and discarded, and now I lay behind the dresser collecting dust bunnies.” That was from one of the first poems I’d ever written, and my sister loved it so much she asked me for a copy. I cried when I went to sleep that night. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because I felt she was finally acknowledging my existence? Or maybe I was happy because she was so proud of my work that she wanted her own copy? I’m not sure. I still cry at night, looking back at what once was and now at what is, praying for that do-over.
Well, if you’re participating in my B.A.D. I hope your story is a bit more cheerful than mine. And hopefully I’ll have something more positive to say next Throwback Thursday…