I’m pretty hard to anger to the point where I actually flash out but it happened tonight. I’ve been contradicted, interrupted, bit my tongue after snide comments about my friends, bit my tongue when I was told that the nasty person who happens to be my niece is “just like you.”
I don’t honestly care who anyone chooses to like or dislike, nor do I care about their reasons for such feelings. I expect the same respect from others. No one gets to dictate to me who I like or don’t, nor do they get to dictate that I never express my opinions.
It has been a difficult week. It ended last night with slamming doors and tears. I leave here tomorrow, once again leaving in sadness, and wondering why I subjected myself to this when I knew in my heart it was going to happen eventually. I told Bear I didn’t want to come, and I should have listened to my intuition.
There have been good days. Going on a 90 mile ride (one way) to find a nursery that only sells African violets, getting lost and endind up on Ann St so many times we thought we should rent an apartment and stay awhile, and buying too many plants but laughing so hard we almost wet ourselves – that was a very good day. Seeing an 80 year old cousin and reminiscing without being told my memories were incorrect was another good day. The visit to the 91 year old cousin was spoiled by constant and relentless contradictions, corrections, criticisms. (This started from the day I was born, I think, never stopped till I moved away and cut all ties, and restarted when I renewed those ties, only to grow in intensity over the past couple of years till if anything it’s worse than when I left 18 years ago)
So I’ll remember the laughter and put the rest behind me. And by next year, I may be ready to gird my loins and head into the battle again. (I love that expression, by the way) I know full well that I could slay the dragons, I could wreck havoc and leave them bleeding on the battlefield that they chose, but I do not choose to do so. I wonder if they’ll ever realize how much restraint I’ve shown over the years? No, they will only remember the few times I let loose and continue to think of me as “such a bitch.”
Suziecreamcheese Sings the Blues 
Ah, families!
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you can pick your nose and pick your butt, but you can’t pick family
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This week will help you to appreciate the peacefulness and respect of your home even more. 😊
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Very true. Thank you for that perspective
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Mav & Max sitting around scratching their furry little noggins and wondering why “bitch” is a pejorative term.
“Isn’t that what we call our lady friends, Max?”
“Yes, Mav, I believe that is indeed the proper term.”
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When applied to humans, t’is not a complement
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:…inserts “You Don’t Say”.jpg…:
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Sorry you had such a bad time of it. 😔
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Leaving in the morning and home on Sunday- I’ll heal
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“B”abe “I”n “T”otal “C”ontrol of “H”erself is not an insult, I swear! In fact, if you think about it, when someone calls you that name, they really ARE upset that they can’t push your buttons because you are in control of yourself!
Let them choose the memories they want to keep, and you choose yours. Yours are bound to make you happier!
And congrats for surviving!
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Family can push buttons like no others.
I consider being called a bitch a badge of honor. It’s normally thrown around by those who are jealous and lack the ability to have a grownup conversation about a topic of disagreement.
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