It's been a crazy and hectic last couple of weeks, so I apologize that it is taking so long to continue with my story. Summer is here and we have lots of family plans and activities keeping me busy. I'm afraid you'll have to also wait a wee bit longer for the continuation of my story, as this post will be more of a digression.
I've been receiving some emails with questions or concerns and I wanted to address it here. First of all, I welcome private emails so please don't be shy if you wish to communicate. Secondly, I wanted to reassure you that I am doing well. That I am having a good life -a life of my choosing- and I am content and happy!
Have things gotten better with my family over time? Yes. And no. Can it be better? Definitely! But will it? Rather doubtful. Honestly, I have long ago let go of the fantasy of having my family in my life as I have truly wished it to be.
The biggest question folks have asked is why I even bother communicating still with my family after everything I'd been through. Why would I want anything to do with them? Well, there's no easy answer to that, I'm afraid. I've tried to analyze why I am so determined to have my family in my life... even after all the heart ache, but the answer isn't so easy for me to put into words.
I had a very hard time letting go of my ideal family... I daydreamed and fantasized about having them part of my life, accepting my husband (who is not Jewish) and being an active part of my children's life. I often envisioned cooking a nice big meal and inviting family over to share in holidays and special occasions. But, alas, over time I had come to realize that I needed to let it all go. After years of dreaming of this, I realized that letting go of the fantastical expectations and finally facing the reality of how things are, brought me more peace of mind and heart. It became easier to accept the way things are even in their limited fashion.
You cannot change peoples minds. You cannot make people understand if they wish not to. You'd have far more luck trying to talk a thunderstorm back over the horizon than trying to change the mind of someone who's been so thoroughly indoctrinated that they've come to believe that their beliefs spring from themselves.
Once I realized I was wasting my time, wasting my breath, I took several big steps back and just accepted the situation for what it was. I wanted my family in my life just the way they were. I realized that how they were was very much a part of the People that they were part of. That accepting them and respecting them for that would --hopefully-- gain me the same respect. So when they did come visit me in my home, I bought new sets of pots and pans, lots of paper plates, plastic utensils and cups. I got disposable tablecloth to cover counter tops and tables, did the research required for cleansing it all. And then took a step away and let them do the cooking. I did what I needed to show them respect, in the hopes of gaining the same.
Was this easy? Absolutely not! Did it make me feel good? Kinda. Sorta. Not really sure. Perhaps a bit of resentment, if I am being completely honest.
But I realized if I wanted them in my life I needed to be prepared to follow their rules. I needed to be prepared to let go of the fantasy and face the reality of how things are.
Why do I choose to do this? Again, I've tried to analyze why is this effort of such importance to me and I keep coming back to how I feel. I can't quite put it into words but never did I want to shut the door on my parents and family for good. That was never my intention when I left home. My intent was to be free to live my life the way I wanted to, but not to shut the door on my family.
Did the manipulation ever end? YES, in that I stopped being affected by it, yet NO in that they still try to do it. And this, my dear readers, took years to accomplish. Time and again I was asked to concede on a matter and I meekly said yes or that I would even consider it. Each time they gained a strong hold of me. When finally I had had enough and found my voice, I started to stand up for myself and say no. Each time I said no it was met with much resistance and battle. I held my ground but did not stop communicating with them just because we disagreed (or, rather, that I disagreed to do what they wanted) and in the end... I realized it stopped. Yes, just like that! I would be asked once and respectfully so and I would answer honestly and that would be that. There would be no more discussing the matter. Standing up for myself allowed me to gain respect. I showed them that I could not be bullied, that I was independent and didn't require their assistance in my life, however I chose to have them be a part of it if they were willing.
This may not work for everyone. I cannot speak for everyone, but this is what worked for me. Things are what they are and with time I learned to accept it. It has brought me peace.
Frum Girl, you hit the nail on the head with this post. Once you show some back bone, and no longer agree to play by the old rules, you not only feel better, but others respond with respect. Kol hakavod!
ReplyDeleteBravo for you:
ReplyDeleteOnce I started reading your blog, I just could not stop. I can imagine what you went through. I married into a "frum" (just to the right of modern orthodox). My parents were not particularly religious. We did not attend shul regularly. The dependence on community and ritual threw me for a loop. When there were important decisions, we were concerned as to how it would affect the family and standing in the community.
All that changed monstrously. A sister got a great shidduch. A Rabbi of considerable importance. Nobody knew he liked to take out his frustrations on his new bride's face. Within months he drove her to a suicide attempt. The family attempted to cover this up. I had enough of the bulls--t. My children still attended the dayschool, but frumkite ended in my house. My eldest wanted a secular education-I was told by my wife that she was going to the Hebrew High School. I said that she was already enrolled in a Math/Science programme in a secular school. My son wanted to be an actor. The Jewish system literally laughed in my face. I withdrew him. A local Catholic school was doubling as a school for the performing arts. They accepted him with open arms. My wife has had to be a diplomat to her family. I am now called the Jew/Goy. I wear that badge with honour. We see the families in our neighbourhood heading off to shul on Shabbos, and I cannot help but think, how many of these people are living lives of quiet desperation.