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
