Family Curse

Family is defined by different experiences, perspectives, and the amount of understanding and support between a biologically assigned group of generational individuals. From birth until adulthood, every day is spent in the same general space with the same people, meaning problems are bound to occur. Because of this, I believe that every family has a curse, something that is undoubtedly and undeniably a flaw or a deep, dark crack in the foundation of the social system dynamics between everyone, one which suffocates everything holy associated with the word family. With my family, I’ve noticed that problems are constantly occurring, toxicity is always present, and a dark blanket of drama surrounds the family 24/7. My mother was willing, or unwilling, always in the middle of whatever issue arose. From the beginning of her life until recently, her heart guided her back toward her family, her duty being to fix every scratch, dent, crack, or wound that threatened to break the family apart while her brain was put on the back burner. Last year was when her brain finally spoke out, burning the bridge between itself and what her heart felt was her duty.

It was a cold, dark December dawn. I awoke to a loud, heated argument between my mother and a phone. “Stop putting words in my mouth!” I sneaked out of my room and I laid down on the loft floor, peering through the handrails. I saw my mom, in her robe with a cup of what was most likely a cold cup of coffee, sitting at the dining room table clenching her fists with a face as red and hard as a beet. “I’m sick and tired of always having to be the fixer in this family, having to show the utmost respect for everyone else, and then being treated like I’m the problem! This whole family is manipulative and has a victim complex!” Her body language went from rigid and still as steel to loose and chaotic like an ocean storm, her hands flailing and punching, her legs springing her upward, and her eyes piercing the imaginative image of whoever she was speaking to that she seemed to have created in front of her. “I’m not going to be your little puppet anymore! You and the rest of the family are not welcome in my house, in my life, or in my children’s lives! You’re all getting blocked and removed on everything, so find someone else to control!” Her finger shot up towards her phone screen, almost hitting it as she ended the call, and the phone slammed down on the table. She huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf from The Three Little Pigs, the air almost thickening with each of her breaths, and it felt as if it was piercing my lungs. For some unknown reason, I felt the need to speak.

“Mom?”

She looked up at me, surprised, angry, and embarrassed all at once.

“What are you doing? You should be sleeping.”

“I heard you fighting with someone. Who was that? What’s going on?” My mom then went on to explain that something happened with the family. That didn’t surprise me, something was always happening, but what did surprise me was how she handled it.

“Why did you just suddenly go off on them though? You usually do the fixing, not the fighting.”

“I know, but I’m tired of having to play that role. They never appreciate it, and it’s always one thing after another. Each person has their own side and everyone’s side is usually wrong because they never think of anyone else, they just blame anyone and anything around them. It’s not healthy.”

“But are you really going to cut the whole family off?”

“Yes. I’ve learned that sometimes, family isn’t everything. The family I have here is, you and your brother and your father, but everyone else is always interrupting that peace. They make life so much more chaotic than it has to be, than it needs to be, and I don’t want that influence in your life or in mine. Sometimes, you just need to let things or people go so that you aren’t held down by their negativity. They don’t matter, what matters is you and your journey. They shouldn’t be stalling that and trying to make everything about them. That’s not something you, me, or anyone else should put up with no matter who is on the other side.”

In retrospect and to conclude this story, my mother’s mistake was like a relentless storm, one that drenched her in self-sacrifice, letting the winds of others’ expectations corrode her sense of self while she clung to the belief that family should always take precedence. In other words, she inadvertently handed them the chisel that sculpted her into a figure she could barely recognize within the murky shadows of their influence.

“Crack in the foundation” by Evil Genius Society: Share the world… is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.