I am a Dependent, and always have been

In the Christian World and others like it, I as a grown woman can have no male friends particularly if one or the other, or both, are married. I suppose if I went to a church which embraced homosexuality, it would be a little mixed. But all that I lived through, it was very strict, heterosexual, Republican and pro-life.

In any case, I have no friends at all, and this I imagine is common for dependents like me.

Most people I know, they will not tell you if they are politically aligned as I am, and some of them (have had this happen many times so don’t argue with me) will fight you to your face but be exactly what you are from a distance.

Some people align politically for their job.

Just know, we are forced into silence if we are the stay-at-home mother from the Generation X, perhaps younger. We are full of wisdom, gentle humor, intelligence, and life-long love service. Except there is so much fighting in my background, and picking one another apart, I am simply glad my time is over in a large family. I am tired of being attacked.

Or, I am tired of having to remind someone that I’d rather not talk about this particular grievance they have in the family because it just makes me keep blaming myself. I’m sorry. Not sorry. I need a space of either you clearly nurture me, or I say no. No, I don’t want to see you. No, I do not care anymore. No, you do not love me and at least I can thank one child who flat out told me that when she walked out. Then she and her sisters bullied me as I tried to get my family to put their differences down to be together again after many years of hard things happening, and my asking for help and getting it at a cost: my demoralization is complete.

I have thoroughly clarified and edited my social media, and that medium is truly my only other existence. We are women, we are dependents, we are forgotten. We are not heard or seen still.

I kept telling someone in my life, and a few others, that I was becoming my Uncle Paul. I literally have no family left who would be with me if it wasn’t expected of them except a few children who hung in there and are trying for me. It is what it is….is what I’m told.

How fucked up that is, ya’ll.

Being shunned, mentally abused, and looked at as a person who has a totally tragic life is not easy, but it is my reality.

Published by Cara

Author, Mother, Spiritualist

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