The food thing was
about control. Sure…but it wasn’t just about big decisions. Someone in a family
is going to be the money controller and the main decision maker a lot of the
time. When it’s absolute and only one person, it feels oppressive.
But the other part
of this, for me at least, is that I couldn’t be myself. I’ve mentioned being
the black sheep and it’s true. I wish I could explain it. my mother tried
sometimes but I just never fit in.
I’d make an
intelligent joke and people would be confused. Or laugh at me like it was dumb.
They didn’t get the references. Dad reinforced his ideas, ideals, and standards
constantly.
When you can’t
even be yourself, it’s hard to know yourself. I’m in here somewhere. Buried
under decades of fat to numb and placate the real me who had to be repressed.
The hardest part
is figuring out the real me. Peeling it away from the façade that survived in
that situation. It’s about survival for a lot people a lot of the time. I’m not
unique or special.
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