Giving up on family is hard. Trust me I know. I know because I gave up on my mothers side of the family when I was 16 years old. I call anyone on that side of the family Aunt, Uncle, Cousin, Grandma or Granddad. I was at a very expensive birthday party dinner my mother went out of her way to work and pay for. See when I actually turned 16 we were homeless. Going through another batch of hell with her family. Because of the hatred between my mothers mother against my daddy and her misguided hate and thoughts of being better than my daddy’s family. She gave me nothing but hell. Starved me and beat the hell out of me when my mother wasn’t around. She picked on me. With me. Called me a bastard to my face because when my mother conceived me. Had me and began raising me. She and my dad weren’t married yet. They didn’t marry until I was 8 years of age.
So by the time I was 16 and freezing outside in the rain to get away from the drama and crazy going on at my mothers, mothers moms house. Had child protective services called on my mom just because they didn’t like it that we didn’t interact with them and I wasn’t enrolled into school because we weren’t staying in that county and planning to move right back into our own home. My mom decided to make up for lost events and times just like she always did. She had the both of us custom made gowns and matching jackets made. Spend real money on homemade food. Book and even hall and tried to help really celebrate my birthday three months after we moved back into our own home. Her family all came. Yet, they all came empty handed. That didn’t stop them from taking plates home with them or taking champagne glasses with them.
I sat there that night in the main hall all by myself except my mothers daddy sitting in a corner alone. The rest of her family sat in the kitchen laughing and talking to themselves. So at the end my birthday dinner, wasn’t about me. No gifts. No cheer. I was sitting sexy in a room full of music alone. All I know is that’s the night I decided to let them go. I didn’t go to alone family event from that day forward. I didn’t want to ruin another one of my nights. Every one always ended in an argument. Either my mothers mothers. My mother and her sister. My mother her sister and her mother. My mother and her brother in law. Trouble always began with these people. When my mom did cook outs. Fish frys and it was with anyone but her family. It was love, fun, a great time. No fussing over food. No fights. No bringing up shit that happened back in 1992, 1993, 10, 20, 30 years before. No more drama is what I wanted and liked.