A random thought flitted across my brain. And I wondered why it would come up after all these years, especially while I’m cooking dinner—no rhyme or reason for it even to surface. My sister and I were teenagers then, and I’m an old woman now. Random and bizarre. Brains are so peculiar.
As I was peeling potatoes, I recalled my sister had slept with my boyfriend—such a juvenile move on her part, I thought. Just because we had broken up didn’t give her license to bed him. But what should I have expected from her when she didn’t have the most couth in the world. Plus, she hated me so much when we were younger; I guess this was like a feather in her cap to get back at me. Paybacks for when I punched her or any number of things I had done to her previously?
Having moved on years ago, it made no sense this part of my past surfaced. It’s not like I even have any allegiance to the boy/man anymore. That relationship eventually reconciled, and we even got married and had a child too. But I don’t have any residual thoughts or feelings, good or bad about it now at this stage in my life. Another husband and another child later, I’m so over my first baby-daddy.
But then I consider how my sister and I grew up; I shouldn’t be surprised at all she did what she did. It’s not like we had any good role models. She wasn’t the only immature one in that family. I did a whole lot of crazy things myself. Certainly wasn’t proud of it, upon reflection, but could definitely understand us becoming dysfunctional human beings after the background we both endured.
My mom, the narcissistic, mentally challenged, and often hysterical woman, didn’t offer us much hope of getting a proper upbringing. Sure, we had food in our bellies, clothes on our backs, and a roof over our heads. We weren’t growing up in the Ritz, money was tight at times, but we weren’t desperately poor either. What was lacking was sanity. It could become chaotic at any given moment. And you never fully knew where you stood in your relationship with her. Tip-toeing and caution were traits I learned early on. It always felt like my mom did her best to fill our lives with dysfunction, head games, and uncertainty. It was disgraceful if you were a witness to it. Why would a mother, of all people, behave in these ways? All her antics managed to produce was so much vying for her unstable attention so you wouldn’t be her target. That was it. Add to that the continual negativity and criticism, it took its toll on our psyches. After all these years, I still ask myself why my sister and I didn’t band together to become allies rather than become the enemies we are now, and not speaking with one another for quite some time. Emotional abuse and manipulation certainly took its toll on us. I guess I shouldn’t wonder and realize it makes perfect sense of why we don’t have a relationship today. Having a mature connection was impossible to nurture in the environment that we got exposed to and survived. Quite sad, but like I mentioned, we survived.
TO BE CONTINUED ON TUESDAY…