Family…
A little bit of crazy
A little bit of loud
& a whole lot of love.
Found on a pillow cover (Amazon)
Since my move to Los Angeles, I committed to returning to my roots at least once a year. For me, it was something soothing and reconciling about taking the trains and hitting the New York pavement. Despite the new life I had unearthed for myself in LA, stepping foot onto those Brooklyn streets connected me with the grit, grime and energy of the old neighborhoods. It was in those moments, I wharped back into time to the smells and sounds of empanadas, old Budweiser, and Salsa music. Those visits celebrated my return and no matter how long I stayed away, reminded me that I belonged. It was understood I was a native to the culture of those streets and no further justification was necessary. Perhaps the streets had changed, the bodegas may have closed down but the energy was alive and potent. Connecting with my environment and surroundings allowed me to silently breathe in the air on my terms and do the things I wanted to do. I can walk and be with my thoughts for hours. I can sit at a cafe or park bench at any point of the day and just admire the hustle of the passerbys. I enjoyed learning what vacation meant by returning to my hometown. Soon, however, my trips to NY was more about recharging my batteries and less about connecting with my family.
Confession: There was a point in my life when I did not feel like spending time with my family.
Me
This is my story – perhaps not yours. I am certain, however, there are a few of you out there who experienced similarly. I believe, I am not alone! I lacked the desire to visit my family. First, I did not feel like spending any time with my family because I felt as if nothing changed from the visit the year before. From year to year, it felt like a clip out of the 1993 Bill Murray film “Groundhog Day”. I was trapped in a “Groundhog Day”, forcing to relive another Springtime May repeatedly. There is absolutely nothing satisfying about getting caught in a timeloop that no one is aware of other than you. In fact, there were many many occasions, when I actually “snuck into” NY without saying a word to anyone. except my sister.
Second, I felt I had to be “on“; most particularly for my mother. When I knew I was going to meet my grandmother, mom, aunts, etc. I was already rehearsing on the plane what I was going to say. I identified the topics we would touch on and how much of them I would cover. I had to be sure to have at least one outfit that would be “presentable” and not draw unnecessary attention and commentary. I stayed away from the low necklines and the short skirts; you know the drill. Finally, I had to be sure I allowed sufficient time for the visit so it would not be said I was “blowing through town”. I had mastered the skill of leading the conversations. Before anyone had a chance to question me, I was prepared to have enough to say to cover the length of the visit. As part of the monologue, I had to be sure to justify my actions and choices, in anticipation of any judgement, or in case anyone would come up with a question or make a disparaging comment. No matter “the act”, I don’t recall any positive words of encouragement or affirmation. I felt betrayed by my own ability to perform. In spite of achieving success in LA and the opportunities to regularly fly back to see my family, I was hardpressed to see any value in visiting with them. Before long, I dreaded my visits and instead of a week, i would stay for the weekend. Yet, to be seen as the dutiful daughter, I pressed forward.
I tried everything to reconcile how important remaining connected to my family really was. On some trips, I spent time with only people with whom I enjoyed their company. On other trips, I set myself as the martyr and voluntarily suffered through repeat performances of “who is sick”, “who just died”, and “so what are you doing with your life?” Like I wasn’t already hearing about it on the phone; why would a visit across the country be any different? Why would I spend money on airfare, hotel, and food to endure the side glances and gloomy reports. Coming home was draining and immediately zapped me of any excitement for the trip.
Thank God for grandmothers! Our faith in God was our common interest. I believe she was happy knowing that I trusted God enough to want to live a good life. Throughout each conversation, I felt no judgement from her. She laughed, she gazed at me but I never felt judged. At the end of every single visit, she would say the same thing (in Spanish), “Te quiero mijita. Que Dios te bendiga. Yo sempre pide de Dios que El te juante y te quida”. Translation: I love you little one. God bless you. I always ask God that He hold you and take care of you”. It was nothing but the prayers of my grandmother that have sustained me these many many years away from home.
When asked how to discribe my family…
An amagalmation of Tortilla Soup and Soul Food (the irony drips of food analogies, I know). With a splash of high jinx dysfunction straight off the pages of Terms of Endearment, Home for the Holidays, and The Family Stone.
Me
Following years of tears, trials and therapy, I am resolved to admit a couple of things…this Latina is a product of a dysfunctional family and this Latina placed entirely too much pressure on myself to be “on” for my family . Each and every person in my family embodied an issue – control & manipulation, infidelity, alcoholism, and others. Yet, I pressured myself to be as close to fulfilled, joyful, perfect, etc. as I could so no one would have to worry about me. At present, our family is much smaller than it used to be. Life has taken its toll and taken away our loved ones. Today, my nuclear family includes my mom, younger brother and I; then there is my sister’s adult children and my brother’s wife and their three children. Now more than ever, as my mother is aging, it is becoming more important than ever to hold on to the value of reconnecting with my family.
Recently, my brother, his wife and I were talking about the everyday grind we all were having to face – work, kids, school, etc. I believe in the conversation when we referenced achieving and reaching goals my brother quoted inspiration from one of my favorites – husband, father, and actor Denzel Washington that deeply resonnated with me. The quote: “Don’t spend so much time making a living, you forget about making a life”. After hearing my brother speak those words, the light bulb immedidately switched on. That is exactly what I did in my 20’s, 30’s and a chunck of my 40’s. Confession #2: I was so committed to achieving goals in Los Angeles, I was completely disinterested with remaining connected with anthing or anyone who wasn’t on that same level. I did not want to be reminded of why I left, in the first place. As a result, I sacrificed many family relationships. What you’ve read thus far were the symptoms. But the question is why? There are so many root causes for and examples of family dysfunction. I just highlighted my top three. Perhaps you may consider if one of these hits close to your home – literally and figuratively.
Family Values, Culture and Ethnicity
The way a family demonstrates it values, culture, and ethnicity can positively define a child’s identity or carve out their youthful perspectives and dreams. This usually causes negative effects on the beliefs of families in cases such as gender roles, parenting practices, and the power of each individual family member. Sadly parents, particularly those born in the 1930’s and 1940’s, were not equipped with the skillset needed to raise emotionally balanced and healthy children. For many of these parents, they themselves did not get these things from their own parents. Generations have suffered from mistrust and the stigmas related to unrealistic family roles, values, cultural biases, and coping with ethnic differences. As a result, the child is forced to make decisions or “grow up before their time”.
The Emotionally Detached Family
In some families, signs of affection and warmth are missing. Again, using the same scenario of parents of the 1930’s and 1940’s, it is said, their sole responsibilty was raising their kids and expecting something great of them. In the meantime, the emotional unavailability and a lack of hugs, speaking words of affirmation, and other physical and verbal signs of love teach children to repress. This causes little ones to bottle up their feelings and have a hard time opening up to others, which can lead to a series of failed relationships.
As adults, we harbor guilty feelings when devoting care to ourselves; instead we are over caring for others or putting others first. I am most conflicted when it comes to the type of relationship I have with my mother. There is the side of me who desires to demonstrate affection versus the side of me who is challenged by the harsh reality of a mother who is narcissistic.
The Strict Controlling and or Authoritarian Parent
When one or both parents have a history of being a controlling parent (fails or refuses to give their children space to flourish) by not allowing them to make their own choices or decisions appropriate to their age. The parents are usually driven and motivated by unexplained horror and refute any children choices and decision for themselves.
Children will eventually feel resentful and hold inadequate power to think appropriately or make their own personal decisions. Eventually, as adults, perfectionism and unrealistic expectations (parent’s expectation beyond their child’s skills, abilities and development) become the hinderance to the adult ltrying to live a life free of the bondage.
Unfortunately, I am the victim of this causation. Though my parents lived and provided a traditional life, cultural and societal biases did not allow us to enjoy our youth. Rationalizing that I do better than my parents, it was expected, as the eldest that I achieve. Even as a child, failure was not an option. Straight A’s on the report card was a requirement or there were serious consequences. We were severly punished for being average. I was repeatedly reminded to “work twice as hard as the other kids to get ahead”. Never allow anyone to see me struggle. Most importantly, figure it out!” Unfortunately, I carried over into my adulthood these fears, anxieties, along with the anger and resentment which made it impossible to just be and enjoy the moment. I had convinced myself to be at the ready to provide the success story.
Ask yourself: Am I loyal to family or loyal to myself?
As I am rounding the corner of a new birthday, I am becoming far more open to learning and overcoming past hurts and disappointments particularly as it relates to my family dynamics. While at the same time hoping to help you, if I can. Confession #3: I am living my best life as it relates to building relationships. I am reconnecting each moment I can with my brother, his wife and children. And, I am getting to experience the eldest niece and nephew as adults in their 20’s with lives, thoughts, and opinions of their own. I am opening myself to the possibilities that these adults want to be with me versus feeling forced or obligated to have to.
When you have a moment, consider a few or all of the options below. It worked for me and I really believe it will work for you.
- Adopt brain healthy habits. Even if your brain bears the emotional scars of childhood abuse, you can improve your brain function, which will enhance every area of your life.
- Find a support network. If your family unit isn’t there for you, find friends, a church group, a support group, or a therapist who can be a good listener and be there for you when you need help.
- Work on relationship skills. Even though you didn’t grow up with healthy relationships, you can learn to develop strong bonds with others.
- Stop being a victim. When you are a victim, you are powerless to change anything. Only when you take responsibility for your own behaviors can you gain the power to make changes.
Family isn’t always blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs; the ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile & who LOVE YOU no matter what.
Coming together for family gatherings is not always easy. They can be remarkably stressful. But the refreshing comes from releasing oneself of the traps we set for ourselves – like expectations to be “on” for others or to have all the right answers to their questions. You don’t have to! Another trap may include trying to get people on our side through people pleasing. I promise you – I’ve tried. No matter how much or how fast you dance the jig before your family and friends, you will never get everybody to be on your side, to like you, to be happy with you, or agree with you all the time. You are not that ambitious or that talented to do it. It is not you! It’s the harsh reality that even the people we love are different. They desire, dream, and believe differently but there must always be a place of safety, comfort, and recharging.
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures every circumstance.
I Corinthians 13:7 NLT
Lastly and most importantly, pray! I choose daily to remain steadfast on the truth of God’s character. The same God who can turn water into wine, is the same God who can change the atmosphere in the room. He can remove the tension and bring forth peace. He can let loose the shackles of fear and restore courage and joy. Reconnect with a loving God who can show you how to reconnect with a not always loving family. Considering God is love means making the choice to trust in His ability to help us bear with the mundane or frustrating times we spend with our families. Paul says that love is patient and kind. This does not mean making an enemy your friend or allowing toxic relationships in your life. It means hoping the best for them and not wishing them harm. Love is hopeful and endures through every circumstance. Relationships are restored through love. The feelings are not always there but we choose to love and eventually we make it.
When it comes to my family, I approach it as a marathon. I do not consider running 26.2 miles an easy task. Yet millions of people have done it, and often for the love of running. Some want to give up but they choose to keep going. I am defined by God. I am defined by the choices I make. I am defined by the love and care I put out to my family, friends, and love ones. Sometimes it is received and sometimes it is rejected but only God can judge me for it. Love does not lose faith. I will continue to press forward and endure the energy and thrill of each mile achieved when it comes to my family.
…now what, Linda.
now what, Linda? 