My
in-laws thrive on an antagonistic, competitive dynamic that leaves me confused
and emotionally battered. Their monthly gatherings, usually doused with
alcohol, disintegrate into hostile clashes whenever they are confronted with
anyone or anything that doesn’t mesh with their clannish worldview.
I desperately attempted
to fit into their tribe for many years. I endured their barbed comments, cruel
exclusions, and open hostility because I convinced myself that all I had to do
was somehow be “better” to gain acceptance. In my mind, if I could figure out
the rules to their game, I would help my husband and son improve their
relationship within the family. In hindsight, my constant anger, bitterness,
and pain caused damage, too. It took
extensive soul searching on my part, along with a million arguments with my
husband, to finally admit that I would never, ever belong.
During the last forty
years, my response to the dysfunction varied depending upon my own mental and
emotional health. I now pick and choose very carefully which holidays and
events to attend, and I no longer take on guilt because I don’t try to improve
relationships anymore. Most of the time, I believe that no one in the family
even notices that I’ve disengaged from their turmoil and drama. They remain
focused on their latest level of rivalry, like how many homes they own or the
type of airplane they fly. Although they gather habitually, I don’t think they
really like one another. Their connection stems from rivalry that fosters
enmity. They are linked more by competition than affection.
They play a sad game.
Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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