To The Family Member Who Erased Me:
You've burned the leaves off my family tree one by one and now I'm stuck with a stump, trying to plant new seeds in poisoned soil. I see family portraits of members you've selected and I know I'll never be asked to join.
I used to be bitter about it. Bitter that we could never see eye to eye, bitter that being myself would never be accepted. Bitter that people who were supposed to love me were so quick to cut me off and act like I never existed. I suffered through dinners where no one talked to me, dinners where I was the main attraction and only conversation topic. You tormented the child and were stunned that she grew into an adult who didn't want to play the game anymore. Blood is thicker than water but I was never meant to feel like your blood. My blood didn't sit quietly at the table, didn't like hearing nasty remarks about my father or his family, or our weight. Or how I couldn't keep my mouth shut when my mother used words you taught her to make me hate the skin she grew. I can't imagine any 12-year-old who likes hearing her drunk grandmother screaming across a restaurant that she was never really a part of the family.
I wish I could say it was my parents' divorce that drove us apart, but we all know that's not true. We went through periods where we wouldn't look at each other, let alone speak to each other. We haven't spoken since I was seventeen. You've missed my birthdays, my high school graduation, my accomplishments, but somehow your remarks about my failures always make their way to me.
When I was younger, you took me to amazing places and I saw wonderful shows and museums. I will always be grateful that I was the person you chose to enjoy those things with. You enriched my love of theatre and travel. But you also taught me that a person's love shouldn't come from possessions and what they can do for you. Every time you took me somewhere wonderful or bought me something beautiful, it always came with a price. You used gifts as an excuse for your poor behavior and lack of love. You showed me that some people only love those who serve a purpose. And when I no longer served a purpose to you, I was discarded like an old Christmas card.
The apology you've been waiting for will never come. I am not sorry that I have my father's personality and my mother's sharp tongue. I am not sorry that I believe that children should be seen and heard. I am not sorry about the hurtful comebacks I made at my own defense. I am not sorry for standing up for myself. I never will be.
I am however grateful.
Thank you for erasing me from your family. Thank you for taking the weight of your abuse off my shoulders. Thank you for opening my eyes to the people who do love me, the people who would never say hurtful things to me, the people who would never use their words as daggers and their fists as weapons.Thank you for showing me exactly how to value the family I do have. The ones who share my blood and the families I built on my own.Thank you for beating me down so much that my skin can handle anything life throws at me. Thank you for teaching me that sometimes people don't deserve to be in your life, no matter the title they hold.
Thank you for erasing me. It's the best thing you could have done.
Sincerely,
The Erased
