Not My Brother's Keeper

As mentioned in previous blogs, I write things down in drafts like a journal and sometimes those thoughts aren't completed enough for really posting/publishing. They are basically mini venting sprees of my chaotic mind for the purpose of dumping. However, sometimes I come back and add to the topic or memory. Today is one of those days!

While reading this, the proper nouns I use a may be more difficult than usual. I don't consider my brother's wife or children to be family. As much as I would like to call them my niece/nephew; they don't acknowledge my brother by his first name and they don't call my father pappy, they call him Mr.Kenny. HA! So you can imagine their surprise when they came to visit, they didn't know my brother had sisters, and in family terms, would make me an aunt. However since it is unlikely my brother will be adopting them as originally planned. . . they are just people I've met once and likely will never meet again.

So all you're getting today is the name my brother wants to go by, Christian, "brothers wife" and "Christian's wife's daughter". Welcome to my fucked "family".

While fresh in my mind, I wrote these thoughts back in July 2019 when I witnessed the knocking down of a childs light and excitement of trying on a dress.

The "chubby" body in question.

She was nine. A moderately healthy nine year old. I've heard she has some intense mental health concerns, as well as stomach issues, however she is 72lbs.

I'd say she err's on the side of skinny honestly. For all visual purposes, this child is "normal".

We just finished her make up for the day that she got to pick out and I help her put on. (she loved my large collection) She was excited to go to the mall after she came out in her dress and showed off to everyone in the living room. I saw her sit down on the couch, when my brother poked the part her stomach that stuck out from sitting down and said "getting chubby, gotta stop eating all those sweets." And it wasn't a joke.

Her mother jumps in and confirms she has been eating a lot of sweets, they were on vacation, and follows up with "You can eat food, but it needs to be healthy food. Not less food." I only presume to clarify what her husband has said in a kinder manner.

Talking about how someone's body looks in a dress is not the time to bring up how to eat healthy. Especially to a child that is growing. Healthy and confident people don't do that. You might talk about health regarding: sugar crashes, low energy, dentist visits on tooth health, preventing the flu by washing your hands and eating foods dense in vitamins, or how one did at soccer practice by what is fueling their body to get them through intense training. But health should not solely be on how a child looks in an outfit they were excited to wear to go shopping at the mall.

At this point in their trip, I've been shot down multiple times and once just minutes earlier while doing their daughters hair in the bathroom for explaining who "Miss Stacey" was. Christian got upset that I told her that she was my mother also and are related, and that I don't see her often. The child was still confused that I was Christian's sister, Mr. Kenny was my dad and Miss Stacey was my mother and why my family didn't live together. I explained my parents were divorced. These children didn't know anything about who they were visiting or why. All of it was pretty fucking creepy! My brother spoke from the other room and said "that's enough". I replied and told him "she didn't even know who we were...." Their entire visit made me completely uncomfortable.

Neither my brother nor his wife are body confident. I know this because she told me in private later of some of her struggles, and I know how my brother was raised, we lived in the same house together for 16 years of his life before I graduated and left for school. I wanted so badly to speak up during this discussion, but I decided to sit there and watch what appear to be her suffer through embarrassment as two adults spent the next 5 mins talking about exercise and try and let her know what food is okay, and what wasn't because her stomach had a small roll when she sat on the couch. I hope this doesn't imprint into her long term memory, like my childhood did me. Luckily it didn't stop her from wearing the dress!

I was that little girl once, I really was. Where do you think my brother learned that behavior? My mother, and her many terrible husbands. Feel free to read my blog bootylicious for some background on body standards for me growing up.

We then all went shopping to the mall. I didn't honestly want to go anymore and wanted to have some personal space and shop myself, but the little girl decided to come with me and shop for some bras. From our brief shopping one-on-one, I know her to be spunky and sassy and I believe that with less encounters like what I witnessed earlier in the day, she'd not question her perfect body at all. She would, however, still need direction to love and not judge others bodies. That, for sure, is not being taught in their home. Thought and behavior control is strong in their family.

Discussing what food is okay to eat should be a daily conversation. Healthy foods should be in your fridge. They were on vacation all eating the same food together, and are the ones who bought all the junk food. (Doritos, oatmeal cream pies, ice cream in the fridge, and two packages of double stuffed oreo's, etc) Which lead to questioning conversations of "have you earned dessert"? "Have you exercised enough to eat that?" Aaaaand the very next morning, promptly went for Cinnabon for breakfast as a family. *face palm*

After Cinnabon and a trip to the amusement park they were all grouchy, sun burnt and hungry. So they ate dinner. Afterwards, Christian's wife wanted her left over Cinnabon from the morning and asked someone to get it for her from the bar. Yet again the same question arised from Christian, "Have you earned your dessert?" with a playful but direct cocky tone. I wasn't in the room, but in the hall bathroom getting ready to go out for the weekend, to get out of the house. I can only imagine his usual smirk when he wanted to

be right. And her military language threw something like "I'll eat and do whatever the fuck I want." Christian knew just how to point out her flaws and even made a wager on her weight on how much she has gained over this vacation. (a very triggering memory to my mother's current abusive husband. He did this to her and I frequently) His bet was that she was over 140lbs. She didn't believe it. So if she weighed more than 140lbs then she couldn't have the cinnamon roll. I was in my room at this point trying on clothing and my brother went to get the scale from the bathroom for her to weigh herself for everyone to see in the living room. The whole family was laughing in on this bet. Alas, the scale read 152lbs. And she was in shock. She looked mortified, as he shouted praise for himself at something she clearly was struggling with.

The scale was returned to the bathroom. I was finishing my make up there when her daughter walked in to weigh herself too. She hopped on and it said 37kg. Someone had pushed the buttons and changed the settings from lbs to kg. She gasped thinking it was pounds and was excited to see she had lost weight (81lbs - 32!) We exchanged what I hoped were affirming words that she is suppose to be gaining weight, but that it was in

kilograms. Her body is still growing in muscle and bone and that her goal should not be losing weight right now. I re-affirmed her body is great as it is. I wish I could tell her my brother is an asshole, I wish I could tell her she should research what healthy bodies actually are and love herself. But I didn't have time. She held her head low in disappointment of the numbers on the scale and what they actually meant and walked out of the bathroom, returning to watching her mother's body get put down by her husband.

No amount of words from me on that trip could replace the daily life she lives with those broken adults with warped views of healthy bodies. They visited less than two weeks and so many things were heavy and hard emotionally. It was all of our first times meeting each other, and frankly it will be our last. We all agreed on that, actually.

In the following days more family drama came up. Something about my mother texting Christian's wife all sorts of profanities for "allowing" him to have alone time with my dad, when they denied that time with her. And she questioned me if I had been talking to my mother. I proudly proclaimed that I hadn't talked to "that bitch" in over 18 months and that won't be changing any time in the forseeable future. She closed my door for a private vent session where we disclosed some things to each other. Which was the perfect time to discuss what happened the other day about her and her daughter's bodies. She agreed that her husband was being an asshole, and she was working with him to not act like that. I just grimaced. She told me that she had gained weight and her body had been changing since she had her hysterectomy. I wasn't close to this woman. I didn't want to be to close to this woman. She was standing on the other side of my disastrously depression-full messy room pouring her heart out to me about how hard it has been visiting here, and how she wanted to go home.

I reassured her it has been unpleasant for me too, and that I'm sorry that we don't get along but have chosen to stay cordial on behalf of my dad begging them to visit the east coast family. I confided that the family is rather toxic, and it would be in her best interest to keep her distance, despite my dad pushing "family togetherness" on everyone. That conversation lasted 45-60mins. I was surprised it happened at all. Getting to know her better, in private, without the pressure to say or do something around her children or anyone else was.... interesting. I am no longer convinced my brother is a good husband/father/man.

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My dad recently visited them on the holidays, my boyfriend and I picked him up at the airport and was excited to share, during the hour trip home, that there would be no future visits. Apparently she had removed my brothers name and number from the children's phones, changed her social media relationship status to "separated", had yelled at him irrationally and, over all, it was a difficult time whenever she was involved in activities. Not my monkey, not my zoo, but if my brother is anything like our dad or our grandfather, or our mothers current husband that he praised and looked up too, I hope he is not physically, mentally or sexually abusing his wife or her children. And that is all that is important. That they are safe. Adult disagreements and fights happen, fine. Ending relationships? Fine. I just hope everyone is okay because there were certainly more than enough red flags while thy were visiting. My dad being an abuser himself doesn't see it. He just described it well.

This is where I feel pressured to write something inspirational. But I write for me, and others to feel things. I want this blog to be emotionally challenging. I want people to see these red flags, to feel uncomfortable. Decide for yourself how it makes you feel. How should it make you feel? To think about how we speak and treat each other and our youth today. No parent is perfect. I saw an incredibly minut peek into their lives. What scares me is what I know about social standards. That people are often on their best behavior when around other people, in someone else's home. If this is the case, and these are their actions under best behavior..... I don't want to see it when they feel comfortable in their own home.

Special thanks to my editor: MC_hammer