this woman’s work

Family myths

Apr 9, 2008 Family

I mentioned in a previous post that my sister and I were talking the other day and debunking family myths and Chanie asked me to elaborate.

I can’t elaborate so much because these stories we’ve been telling ourselves as a family are sacred stories even when they’re wrong and even when the telling them has done some damage. Which is to say that it’s one thing for my sister and I to talk about them or for me to share what I’ve learned with close friends but it’s another thing to share ‘em on the internet. I’ll give pretend examples instead.

They’re family myths like “You know she gave up her life for him” or “he never did learn to appreciate her.” They’re myths that we trade on to relate to each other. If she’s a martyr in legend, we treat her like a martyr. If he’s a louse according to fable, we treat him like a louse.

My sister and I sometimes say, “But you know, this story doesn’t fit because…” and then we tear them apart and talk about how they hurt us or held us back or how losing them is painful because they were important stories we told. As I get older and as my kids get older (so as I get a new perspective on a different stage of parenting), I revisit those absolutes and question them. I have different insight that colors the way I used to see things and it frees me up to start dismantling some of what I thought was a firm foundation.

It’s useful to have someone who grew up alongside you or who was an interested party (so a sibling but, too, an aunt or a cousin or someone who had a different point of view on your family). My sister and I are about three years apart — she’s older by 32 months — and the mom and dad she experienced aren’t the same mom and dad that I experienced even though we’re pretty close in age. It’s even more apparent with my brother, who is 27 months younger than I am. We witnessed different discussions, had alone time with my mom at different points of her life. (My sister spent her first years as an only child. My earliest memories were shaped when my mom was struggling with a new, unexpected baby and a husband who traveled all of the time. My brother was small during the halcyon days we spent in California.) It was the same family but it was not the same.

I have always been more independent and so I didn’t notice when my mom quit eating when I was a teen. It was my sister who was making her sandwiches and running them upstairs. I would have had no idea today that my mom was depressed back then because I was so busy with my own depression and crazy behavior. (My therapist later said, “Maybe you were acting out to try to bring your mom back.” But I don’t know because I was so much in my own head.)

I say, “Those were a terrible time…” and my sister says, “What you didn’t know was…”

When we do this there are other things, too, those myths. It’s when I venture, “I always thought that … but now I wonder if …” and it’s scary to say it out loud. Having someone who can say, “I never thought before but now it all makes sense.” Or “I always wondered that, too.”

All of our families have their troubles and secrets and stories. As adult children, our job is to try to uncover them so we can make our own mistakes. I hope my kids are able to do this someday, too.

Possibly related posts

• My six random things (5)
• Playing tennis (17)
• Leaving on a jetplane (19)
• First meme (10)
• You guys post a lot (12)