My imaginary family

4 Dec

I used to think (or, as I would now call it, imagine) that my mom had gotten married and then divorced when I was a baby.  Why did I think this?  I guess at some point I just decided that the only way a woman could possibly have a baby is if they had been married.  So, obviously, my mom must have been married and divorced– she had me, but I had no daddy.

I look back at this little made up story and wonder why I thought this.  I know that for a long time I didn’t know my nuclear family (me, my mom, and, for a time, my mom’s parents) was not normal.  Everyone lives with the grandparents and mom, right?  And their aunt watches them, obviously, when their mom is at work.  Duh.

I don’t know the exact moment when I figured out that, in fact, most people live with just their mommy and daddy; and I don’t remember if I actually truly believed that my mom had been married or if I just told myself (and some kids who asked where my dad was) that story.  I do know that my cousins decided at some point to ruthlessly tease me for not having a dad; that my mom didn’t love me (because I didn’t have a dad?  I don’t know; kids really don’t seem to need a logically reason to be horrifically, traumatically mean, do they?).  And I know that I have always longed to feel normal since realizing I was anything but.

Now, though, I don’t know if I would’ve been “normal”– what is normal, anyway, right?– even if I had the perfect little family I always thought I should.  And, really, I like who I am now and who I am becoming.  And maybe there could’ve been an easier way to get to this place, and there could’ve been fewer obstacles and hardships… and, probably, there should have been more love and affection growing up, less rejection, more honesty.  But, through all the ugliness, there is beauty.  I don’t have to make it up; I can see it pretty clearly now and hope to see even more so as I continue to change and shift.

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One Response to “My imaginary family”

  1. Faith December 4, 2011 at 2:58 am #

    This is so encouraging to me, Adella. My story is different, but even with a family that was “together,” I’m realizing that I still have deep hurts from my childhood/upbringing. Thanks for your courage to share and be real. 🙂

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