I went to bed with a sense of calm.
I feel I am reattaching more to myself and my body. I am starting to have dreams about the future and what I’d like to do. I’m releasing a life of anger and resentment as I regain control over my own life for the first time.
I am feeling more sexual and interested in that part of my life which is also new.
I was contacted over the weekend by a person that is my first cousin. She is the one-night-stand result of a liaison my uncle had with a very young woman. As I look at my family on both sides, there is no other way or person it could have been. It also corroborates what she shared in the limited information she received from her biological mother in a letter.
It reminds me again that the family and culture I came out of was indeed heavily patriarchal.
I was fighting for my life.
I was fighting for my life.
I was fighting for my life.
I knew it and was angry and terrified.
I’ve known I wanted to live a rich, full life full of senses and thinking and living and experiencing.
I have felt surrounded by people and circumstances that have tried to bring me down. I have never had anyone directly oppose me in that, but there have been so, so many that needed me, and mostly, were scared of who I was.
I’m reminded of the words of the Mary Oliver poem I am memorizing, The Journey:
One day, you finally knew
what you had to do, and began
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
I have not fit the mold that was laid out for me by my paternal side of what women do. The men on that side of my family used women. Not in mean ways publicly, but subtly. I’m the one in charge. I make the money. You stay home and support me and have a small life w/ lunches w/ friends, family and your hobbies. That sounds like utter death to me.
My aunt on my paternal side escaped. She married late in life, had one child. She had a deep, rich artistic life, converting her garage into an art studio. I can see now that she removed herself in the same way my mother’s younger sister did. They left home, literally and symbolically. They didn’t fit the mold, and they resisted their mothers and their overbearing fathers. I sometimes refer to them affectionately as The Two Patricia’s.
So I have this model now that is clear in the specter of time. I have made it out. It has taken the better part of my last thirty years and much of the last two. I am fifty-two. I don’t intend to look back and continue to wonder how this is going to unfold in my art and life in the future.
I contacted my cousin’s husband today as I am unsure how to discuss w/ my female cousin. She has anxiety issues, and I’m not sure how this is going to go over for her. It feels good to be surrounded by people that are solid. They’ve been married thirty-plus years now. They’ve made it.
Marriage is a beautiful institution that when it works, is a bedrock of society and family units. It keeps lines of communication flowing. Helps small connections stay strong. I only talk to this person every few years and here we are, discoursing about deep, secret family matters. That’s special.
That’s what I believe is an outcome of a life well-lived. Integrity. Depth. Stability. Richness. Beauty.
I picked a narrow path but it widens as the years grow long.
It is easier to trod than it once was.
The rewards are emerging, over the spans of time.
I don’t know how to tell younger people this.
I don’t know how to create a compelling image or story about what matters in life and how almost none of it is instantaneous or easy to acquire.
So I will engage this poor woman who is seeking something in this family that she won’t find. I don’t know how my cousins will choose to handle this. For me, I will take the lead from them. I don’t plan to have a relationship with her if they do not.
I have had to process feeling a bit like a hypocrite when we have had an almost fairytale experience with Jay’s biological family. I’m not sure it could be anything better, other than they always had wished they’d had an older son. I wish that could be her story too, but it won’t be in this situation.
This situation is different. She is seeking, and we were not. She is eager, and we were more passive. I have to remember my boundaries and that I am not obligated.
On we go on this path.
I don’t need to be angry anymore. Action, not anger; that’s what I keep telling myself. I am safe, and I am strong. I’m also free.
*****
I learned more about this person’s life and story. It’s horrendous what happened in our family. I’m shocked, shocked. Even with all the abuse I had, you just can’t believe it.
I was able to try and extend to her some grace the best I can being that this isn’t my family, really. We have been given so much grace by the Andrews. I hope she can find some comfort in what she learns as it unfolds. I’m out for now and have passed it off.
The big takeaways? Values matter. Choices matter. What you chose to watch on TV and view and believe, all matters. Much of what’s out there in the media is a lie. It looks pretty and sells because we all want to believe there is a better life out there somewhere, some better, prettier version of ourselves might somehow hookup with a better, cooler version of a partner than what our real life is like.
It’s a lie and mirage and like a well that’s not full of water, but promises to be. I’m grateful I had values from my Mom especially and seeking on my own, friends and family and Jay. I made it out and have carved a life.
Whew. On we go.