How long does it take to make friends with your siblings?
How long does it take for the old grudges and immature behavior to wear off?
When will I be able to go home and not fight with my family?
This weekend was an uggh! weekend. It was the first time I’d seen my sister in months and we fought like children once again.
I find it amazing that what I am: a wife, mother, and all around responsible person can completely disintegrate the moment I step into my old family home.
It’s not that I want to fight with my family. Absolutely not. I would love for us to get together like a normal family: eat, watch a movie, hug, and go home. Instead we get together and drink, then eat, then drink some more, and after hours of boozing it up on the back porch we do something to piss one another off and get into a fight.
I think a lot of this has to do with me. As a child I was a peacemaker, as most youngest children are. I tried my best to avoid confrontation. I even hid in the closet when people raised their voices.
My fear of being yelled at and abused continued until I was about 22, and then I just got angry. I was mad at myself for being weak and defenseless, angry at my parents for not protecting me, and totally pissed at my sisters for being monstrous bullies while growing up.
It was during this time that I read the book “Enders Game” by Orson Scott Card. The child in the book is incredibly intelligent and deals with bullies in a very pragmatic way – he fights back and makes sure they’ll never come back for more.
After reading this book I began to see my life in a different way, a logical, pragmatic way. I began to see that because I was always running from the fight, or doing anything to avoid it, I was destroying my self esteem. What was important was not getting hurt, and the mental pain of running was far worse than any physical pain from staying and fighting it out.
So I’ve changed. But my families dynamic hasn’t. My expected role is still that of a peacemaker, but I cannot and will not fill that role anymore. When something happens to make me feel threatened, I fight back instead of shrinking away. It’s taken intense bravery and courage to do this, but every time I feel stronger, more in control, and far better about myself than ever before.
I don’t like to fight. I hate it in fact. My sisters are still stuck in their childhood roles and they start fights. I fight back and defend myself. I guess the leftover “uggh!” feeling is that of sorrow. I feel sorry that my sisters have yet to grow up. I feel bad that we can’t just be together without pissing each other off. I don’t regret the fight or defending myself, but I do regret having such a dysfunctional family dynamic.
Merry Christmas and all that,
Leah
