So all my life I’ve been an outsider, even when it comes to dealing with my own family.
Here’s some background.
Since birth I was cursed with having split parents, meaning that my life would be even more complicated. My father already had three children with his wife, and my mother just had me outside of his marriage. From an early age I saw the different attitudes I received from my father, my siblings, my father’s family, and his friends. So much so, that some of my father’s family members didn’t think I was his, and that he needed a DNA test done.
When you’re a kid, you don’t notice these things until you talk to someone (a children’s psychiatrist) who is completely unaware of your family dynamic, and have them tell you that something is wrong.
My older brothers have been and will always be closer to one another and thats a fact, not not up for argument. They share the same mother and father, while I don’t. I always thought that we didn’t get along cause I was a girl, and because of our big age difference-I was wrong. We don’t get along because I’m not one of them, I’m always going to be second class.
In social gatherings where introductions are made, my father would introduce his four children-no issues. Once it started getting down to more serious talks, people saw me differently when I told them my mother wasn’t my dad’s wife. I always felt awkward, because those people made me feel bad, like it was I should feel shameful for the act of infidelity that dad committed on his wife. Same goes for when my brothers started introducing me to their girlfriends, I was the “half sister”. I have I always introduced them as my brothers, because I don’t think the distinction is necessary. I don’t know if they do it because thats how they truly feel, or because it just makes sense to them.
Due to all this, I developed social anxiety. I don’t like socializing because I know what it feels like to be talked badly about by family/friends/strangers. It sucks, but there isn’t something that can fix my anxiety.
Sometimes I wonder if my life would’ve been easier if I didn’t know about my father and his family. It saddens me to say that, but with my mom’s side of the family, we fight and argue but we’re a close knitted group. Whenever I need help, my mom’s side of the family is the only one I truly I can turn to.
The other day I was talking to a member of my dad’s family and that person clearly stated, “You’re so lucky that your dad’s family accepted you. You know that right? Most families don’t do that, but yours did”. And that person proceeded to smile at me. Those words have haunted me for what seems like a lifetime. Why am I the lucky one? Why did I need to be accepted for? Those words taste bitter, and I want to forget them, but sadly I can’t.
All I can do is smile at them, because they don’t know nor understand my pain.