Desperate Alliances in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

My little brothers think I’m being overdramatic because I’ve said that I won’t be going to my grandmother’s memorial service. Ironically, my mother completely supports my decision. I think it’s the first major agreement between us since I was a child. I find it really amusing that the forces in my life have realigned because of my grandmother’s passing.

This was a situation that I had thought long buried. I have spent the last 15 years trying to deal with the ramifications and put my life back together. I have had to build a completely new identity, a new life from the wreckage that was my life.

I don’t know if anyone has ever had every aspect of their lives destroyed, but that’s what it was like. I had a scholarship to UC Davis, I had a good job, I had a life, I had my family… all of that was ripped away from me. I lost my scholarship, I lost my job, I was forced to leave my home and thrown out on the street, the relationship with my family has never recovered. I had nothing.

The most important thing that I lost, though, was the ability to trust. I would never give anybody such power over me again.

But here we are, forced to see these people again. Forced to cede space to them. Well, I won’t. I won’t accommodate. I don’t need anyone else to understand my relationship between myself and my grandmother, and I don’t need anyone’s validation. I know how much she loved me, and she knew how much I loved her. This spectacle is a vehicle for my mother to cope and deal with the death as well as provide a space for those to grieve for this remarkable woman.

For my aunt and uncle, they get to be part of the show, part of the spectacle and show everyone how talented they are. I’m sure they’re grieving as well, however, their insistence at being in the program and having their own space shows that they aren’t there to honor her… they’re there to be honored for having suffered such a loss.

The reason my little brothers don’t support me is because what happened to me is just a story told to them. My mother, my friends, adults in my life and others around at that time watched the level of chaos around me, and have seen how I’ve built my life from the ruins with which I was left. It’s why adults have such respect for my accomplishments, understand my hard nature, and give me a wide birth when challenged.

People compliment me on various talents: singing, acting, sense of humor, intelligence. But my real talent is this: I survive.