Story time.
When I was a really little kid I apparently had an imaginary family that lived at the airport. My family, consisting of my parents and my older brother, also told me when I was growing up that I wasn’t really theirs, but that they found me in the frozen food section of the grocery store, where I was left by my real family, who were aliens. To this day my family finds both of these things hilariously funny.
Fast forward about 20 years to the first time I read the words “emotional neglect” and the effects it has on adults and all I can think is
“Oh.”
My father’s older brothers created this elaborate lie that there had been a fourth brother who was killed by a St. Bernard, but their parents never talked about him because it was too sad.
The fact that they found his reaction hilarious when he was old enough to figure out the truth made me understand his issues a bit more.
It’s like a bizarrely elaborate form of gaslighting. In my case it was my parents doing it, which honestly kind of makes it worse because I was like 3-4 years old when this started and it was my parents doing it. And not just the lie but instilling the idea of otherness in me. Like I’m not just not a real member of the family, I don’t belong on this planet, to this species. I found it funny at the time, because I was told it was funny and I didn’t know any better, but looking back, a lot of things make sense now. In particular, this constant feeling of, again, otherness. I’ve never felt like I belong anywhere. And yeah, I have strange interests and such. But damn maybe I don’t feel like I belong because my parents straight out told me I don’t belong just for their own amusement. Also, you know, telling a little kid their “real” family (who you just made up for a laugh) abandoned them, no that’s not going to give them issues.
I mentioned once to my family, both immediate and extended, that I feel like the black sheep of the family and they were baffled and asked me why I felt that way. I don’t think I have ever side eyed anyone so hard in my life.