Family dynamics

In my family, as in many families I suppose, there are no secrets....tell one person, and soon everyone knows.  The only secret is from you about exactly who knows your secret and who told them. Before it gets back around to you it has been passed around, discussed, and conclusions drawn.  Everyone knows exactly how you should parent, is an expert on your marriage and home management, and ironically, the people who should be the most loving and encouraging are the biggest source of criticism and judgment.  In my family I feel constantly 9 years old, when they look at me they see that selfish drama queen, messy room and all.  In my own family y'all, I've never been allowed to grow up. They have no idea who I am today, because they see that girl, not who I have become. 

It's hard with family, because unlike with friends, you can't just decide it's too big of a pain and cut your losses. Family is sometimes a tough lesson in love and forgiveness.  It's continual, over and over, you hurt one another, but you can't walk away, you have to learn how to deal. And I'll admit, nothing brings out the tantrum throwing kid in me than the frustration of being misunderstood and judged by people who are supposed to give you the most grace, your life pandered around like fodder for gossip. I want to lash back, the tongue my defensive fortress, but then, aren't I becoming exactly who they convict me of being, as though their perceptions are enough to make me regress. It's like with family God gives you the same trial again and again, until you finally learn to handle it like a grown up.  Are you giving them the grace you are wishing they would give you? Are you allowing them to grow? Are you lashing back with the wicked tongue you inherited, or learning, slowly, to breath, to be slow to anger and quick to forgive.  Perhaps this is why we are birthed into such a mix of personalities; people we can't divorce.

In fairness, I have been on the opposing side.  It's familiar.  It's how we grew up operating.  My own sweet sister said to me one day.  "You still see me like when I stole mom's camera and denied it, like the five year old who hid vitamins in the couch." My comment about her had been off hand, but it was true, I had boxed her in, forbidden her to reinvent herself, to grow up. I was blind to the introspective young woman she was becoming, like a butterfly, right before my eyes.


The people who know our weak spots, our back stories, shouldn't use them like weapons. We know theirs in return, like shields of justification. It is a slow process, learning to offer the other cheek, and it's family that makes us vested enough to try, try again. I release their expectations for me, for my life.  I am free to become.  I am free to be redeemed, whether they see it or no.  I release my expectations of them, they are free to transform. I pray for a breath of pause, and fresh eyes.  I am forgiven; I am free to forgive.