This past weekend has been one I'll never forget.
I've mourned, I've shared, I've learned, I've cried, I've laughed, I've been hurt.
In the past few days, I've been forever changed.
I want to write about it, I want to put it all into words that I can see, that I can share, that I can read over and over again so I will never forget what I feel like this very moment. Before I can do that, I have to write something I'm feeling very conflicted about.
Saturday night, I recieved an insulting comment. Normally, I'd not pay attention to it, but it sounded a little too personal, so I tracked the IP. My suspicions were right, and I am 99.9999999% sure the comment came from my brother. He's probably reading this right now. (Hi!) He found my blog. And he based on his comment, he doesn't like my blog.
He called me an idiot, a sick pervert, told me to 'get a life'. Then, in what I took as a threat, asked if my family knows about this website.
My first reaction was hurt. Deep hurt. I love my brother dearly. Infact? He's one of my favorite people on this earth. He definitely is the funniest person I know and being around him makes me so happy. When I found out he was moving out of state, I cried for weeks. I cried for the first month he was gone and two years later, there are still days that I cry because he's not here. Him and I have been through a lot together, some very ugly things happened between us when he was younger, but through God's love, we were able to heal the past and form what I THOUGHT was a beautiful relationship as adults. When I read those words "idiot, sick pervert, get a life" and I knew they were probably words my BROTHER had written, I wanted to throw up. I knew there was a chance he'd find my blog, but I figured if that day ever came, he'd pick up the phone and call me, or he'd email me about it. I didn't expect he'd insult and belittle me.
My family does NOT know about this website. I never felt like I HAD to tell them about it either. My husband knows and he loves this blog. He thinks it's funny and he always looks forward to seeing pictures I've posted with my silly commentary on the pictures. Sometimes he cries when he reads things I write about our children. I haven't told my family because it's not something I want them to read. The same way I'd never want them to read my paper journals. It would be too... wierd?
I love my family and I'm closer with my parents now than I've ever been in my life. However, there are still things I don't want to talk about with them because I CAN'T.
They wouldn't understand. Honestly? I don't come from the most understanding family. I've never felt like I can completely be "myself" around them for fear of rejection, of ridicule, of disgust and if that was my brother who left that comment? It turns out my fears were justified.
I showed my husband the comment. I thought he'd tell me to just take this blog down, but he didn't. He told me that I was an ADULT and that I'm doing nothing wrong here. He was shocked that my brother wouldn't just call me to talk about it and that he was so hurtful.
I'm confused as to whether I'm being a phony with my family or if it's natural to keep some parts of myself private from them. For instance, I drink smirnoff (or used to, before I had Gabby) and I never told them because I know how they feel about liquor. I didn't want to deal with the critism. My family isn't "normal" when it comes to these things, trust me. One day, my son was out shopping with my mom and he saw some smirnoff and said "My mom drinks that."
My mother just about died. It was as if he told her that I do crack and prostitute on the weekends. You would not believe the shit I got from them.
My brother of all people should understand this. My parents don't know he drinks beer! Or that his wife has a tatoo! Because they know how they are and don't want to deal with it. There have been many times where my dad is scolding me about my husband drinking beer, telling me how horrible it is, blahblahblah, where I've wanted to shout out "DO YOU KNOW YOUR PRECIOUS SON DRINKS BEER?!"
But I don't, because I understand.
This blog isn't a big deal. It's just me, writing about my life, about my children, about being a woman and the struggles that come with all of it. Yes, I talk about my vagina, because I HAVE ONE and because I try to be funny. It's not in a sexual or a "sick perverted" way. I write about being scared to have sex with my husband again, I talk about my boobies and the changes they've gone through with each child I've carried in my body. None of those things make me a "sick pervert", they make me HUMAN. Those things are part of life and I have found a way to express them where other women can relate.
Excuse me if I'm not comfortable with my brother or my father or my mother reading these things.
Believe me when I say I WISH I could tell them. I WISH that I could be this honest and open with them, but the reality is that I can't without causing problems, so I choose not to. Is there really something wrong with that? Does that really make me a bad person?
I don't know if he's going to pass this on to them or not. I don't know if he'll continue to think ill of me, rather than call me and talk to me. I can only HOPE he'll not tell my family and that him and I can talk about this, but if he does tell them? If they do read this? Well, I guess I have to grow up and deal with it.
Excuse me for not wanting to, though. Also? Excuse me for wanting a little place in the world where I can say what I want to say without "getting in trouble" without being mocked, made fun of or having to explain myself.
This sucks.
Y,
You're doing nothing wrong. You hang in there. I know how it is, having been raised by my grandparents and my grandfather was really strict. We couldn't date people that weren't our same race so imagine the flack I got when I brought home my hispanic boyfriend in the tenth grade. Yeah it was horrible. I couldn't keep a journal cause he would read it. I know exactly how you feel. Much hugs and you keep blogging because honestly you're not being perverted. You're being real, and thats all anyone can ask of you.