Shades of Gray
I am, unfortunately, not all that surprised that I've gotten a couple of snarky comments (made anonymously, of course!) on the recipe box post from a few days ago.
"Wow--I thought you hate your dad, why did you list a recipe from him?"
and
"you should call it, "Dear Dad: Bugger The Fuck Off!" yummy chicken..."
I know, to people like the ones who made these comments, it must be confusing. How can I write such an angry letter to the man one week, and the next praise his recipe?
Oh, but where to start...as I mentioned, I am not surprised by this backlash. I even considered the potential for it when I posted the recipe. But Kay had kind of implied that she wanted a family recipe. I do have a handwritten recipe for meringue (the egg whites on top of some pies, not the dance - I'm so not sure I have it spelled right) from my grandma Marlys. But I think I've used it once. I wanted to post a recipe that I thought people might actually read and say "Hey, that sounds pretty good. I'll add it to my menu for next week" because that is the kind of recipe I'd like to read. I mean, how many recipes for fudge or shortening-based cake icing does a person *need*? A heck of a lot fewer than they need good what's-for-dinner recipes, that's how many. So that's where I was coming from.
And, I'm going to get to the real point of the post now. It's hard, in this complex world where our brains crave simplicity and order and tend to turn issues to black and white, to see the shades of gray in things. The first poster suggested that I "hate" my father, and I have to admit that on-and-off for many years I have hated him. But hate is an awfully hard emotion to maintain for very long, and if you try to it will eat you up from the inside out. I don't hate my father. I hate many of the things he's done, and I hate the way he has treated me all my life. I am in a position now where it is better for all of us if I refuse to allow him to contact me because I'm pretty darn sure he's going to keep acting the way he has always acted - there is no evidence to the contrary - and I want to protect myself and my family from his poison.
Okay, and I think it is just silly that because I don't want to be around my father I'm not supposed to like the chicken dish that has always been one of my favorites any more? Because he used to make it, and because the fact that he won some prize in a cooking contest was part of the story that was told every time we ate it? Well, if that were the case, I guess I wouldn't get to hold on to *any* of the few precious good memories from my childhood.
I could write a book about my experiences growing up. Really, I could. I mean, the stories! They are so insanely wrong they are funny. But I don't want to dwell on it all. I've moved on. I'm happy. I've worked hard to find myself and my good memories in the rubble of the past. I've worked hard to separate the bitterness from the good, and to be satisfied with who *I* am as an individual and as part of my own family. This blog is not about the past - it's about my life, my cooking, my knitting, my kids right now - and not necessarily in that order!
In my experience, when I tell my story to people - and I don't share it very often, and I haven't shared most of it with you - I find three categories of responses.
There are people who have come from such stable backgrounds, such happy homes, that they simply can't comprehend the idea of parents hurting them, betraying them so deeply that one would say goodbye and cut them out of their lives. Those people sometimes think I'm being petty or perhaps am a bit spoiled. I assure you, this is not the case. If anything, I erred way too far on the side of putting up with it and forgiveness. Hell, I went to my sister's wedding even though my mother and her by-then-husband (my abuser) were there acting like the proud parents. It was a disaster. My own husband falls a bit into this category, although he has seen plenty of the crazy for himself, enough to know that my family is, in his words "all kinds of messed up." He is so right.
The second category is people who have experienced abuse of their own of one kind or another, but are not able or willing to admit it. They are still living in denial, still putting up with the crap, still making excuses. These people are less common than the first, and are harder to deal with. They sometimes feel threatened by my example. They get defensive and ask blaming questions like "why can't you just get over it? Put it in the past and forgive and forget?" And my answer is that I tried forgiving for almost thirty years. Over and over. But the behaviors never changed. After a while, you have to stop banging your head against the wall and just walk away.
And the third category, quite a common one, thankfully, is the people who have seen some kind of abuse in their family or in one that they know. They've heard similar stories or they themselves are estranged from one or more relatives (or wish they had the guts to walk away). I've been pleasantly surprised in the years since I made my decision about my family. Most people sympathize. Not very many realize the full depths of the grief that I went through when I cut off my father and my sister. I was giving up not just a future with them as they were, as they probably are now. I was giving up the hopes that one day they might change and become the family I wished for - the family who could treat me with the basic love and respect that every daughter and sister, child or adult, deserves.
And let me just reiterate: The hurt is pretty much in the past. The whole letter to my father thing was just my way of reminding him that he needs to back off or put his money where his mouth is. I don't expect him to ever earn a place back in my life, and honestly I kind of hope he doesn't try. I'm happy putting my effort elsewhere, and even if he could learn to treat me decently, he is not the kind of person that I would choose to be around were he not family. I'm talking about this now because there is apparently a lot of ignorance about there about abuse and recovery, about how surviving it means keeping the good parts of yourself even if they are tied to experiences with the people who hurt you.
It's not black and white, and there are so many shades of gray that the mind will boggle. But you sort through them anyway, and you find your own happiness in there somewhere. Peace.
Oh, and you anonymous people? If you're going to post snarky things in the comments? Leave a name. I know that some people don't have blogger or google accounts or don't feel comfortable leaving an e-mail address. I've told people in the past, pick a pseudonym and stick to it. Be accountable for your words on some small level. It is so easy to be mean and insensitive when nobody is looking you in the eyes. And it's a lot easier for me to take you seriously and to give you the benefit of the doubt if I can at least associate a name with your words.
"Wow--I thought you hate your dad, why did you list a recipe from him?"
and
"you should call it, "Dear Dad: Bugger The Fuck Off!" yummy chicken..."
I know, to people like the ones who made these comments, it must be confusing. How can I write such an angry letter to the man one week, and the next praise his recipe?
Oh, but where to start...as I mentioned, I am not surprised by this backlash. I even considered the potential for it when I posted the recipe. But Kay had kind of implied that she wanted a family recipe. I do have a handwritten recipe for meringue (the egg whites on top of some pies, not the dance - I'm so not sure I have it spelled right) from my grandma Marlys. But I think I've used it once. I wanted to post a recipe that I thought people might actually read and say "Hey, that sounds pretty good. I'll add it to my menu for next week" because that is the kind of recipe I'd like to read. I mean, how many recipes for fudge or shortening-based cake icing does a person *need*? A heck of a lot fewer than they need good what's-for-dinner recipes, that's how many. So that's where I was coming from.
And, I'm going to get to the real point of the post now. It's hard, in this complex world where our brains crave simplicity and order and tend to turn issues to black and white, to see the shades of gray in things. The first poster suggested that I "hate" my father, and I have to admit that on-and-off for many years I have hated him. But hate is an awfully hard emotion to maintain for very long, and if you try to it will eat you up from the inside out. I don't hate my father. I hate many of the things he's done, and I hate the way he has treated me all my life. I am in a position now where it is better for all of us if I refuse to allow him to contact me because I'm pretty darn sure he's going to keep acting the way he has always acted - there is no evidence to the contrary - and I want to protect myself and my family from his poison.
Okay, and I think it is just silly that because I don't want to be around my father I'm not supposed to like the chicken dish that has always been one of my favorites any more? Because he used to make it, and because the fact that he won some prize in a cooking contest was part of the story that was told every time we ate it? Well, if that were the case, I guess I wouldn't get to hold on to *any* of the few precious good memories from my childhood.
I could write a book about my experiences growing up. Really, I could. I mean, the stories! They are so insanely wrong they are funny. But I don't want to dwell on it all. I've moved on. I'm happy. I've worked hard to find myself and my good memories in the rubble of the past. I've worked hard to separate the bitterness from the good, and to be satisfied with who *I* am as an individual and as part of my own family. This blog is not about the past - it's about my life, my cooking, my knitting, my kids right now - and not necessarily in that order!
In my experience, when I tell my story to people - and I don't share it very often, and I haven't shared most of it with you - I find three categories of responses.
There are people who have come from such stable backgrounds, such happy homes, that they simply can't comprehend the idea of parents hurting them, betraying them so deeply that one would say goodbye and cut them out of their lives. Those people sometimes think I'm being petty or perhaps am a bit spoiled. I assure you, this is not the case. If anything, I erred way too far on the side of putting up with it and forgiveness. Hell, I went to my sister's wedding even though my mother and her by-then-husband (my abuser) were there acting like the proud parents. It was a disaster. My own husband falls a bit into this category, although he has seen plenty of the crazy for himself, enough to know that my family is, in his words "all kinds of messed up." He is so right.
The second category is people who have experienced abuse of their own of one kind or another, but are not able or willing to admit it. They are still living in denial, still putting up with the crap, still making excuses. These people are less common than the first, and are harder to deal with. They sometimes feel threatened by my example. They get defensive and ask blaming questions like "why can't you just get over it? Put it in the past and forgive and forget?" And my answer is that I tried forgiving for almost thirty years. Over and over. But the behaviors never changed. After a while, you have to stop banging your head against the wall and just walk away.
And the third category, quite a common one, thankfully, is the people who have seen some kind of abuse in their family or in one that they know. They've heard similar stories or they themselves are estranged from one or more relatives (or wish they had the guts to walk away). I've been pleasantly surprised in the years since I made my decision about my family. Most people sympathize. Not very many realize the full depths of the grief that I went through when I cut off my father and my sister. I was giving up not just a future with them as they were, as they probably are now. I was giving up the hopes that one day they might change and become the family I wished for - the family who could treat me with the basic love and respect that every daughter and sister, child or adult, deserves.
And let me just reiterate: The hurt is pretty much in the past. The whole letter to my father thing was just my way of reminding him that he needs to back off or put his money where his mouth is. I don't expect him to ever earn a place back in my life, and honestly I kind of hope he doesn't try. I'm happy putting my effort elsewhere, and even if he could learn to treat me decently, he is not the kind of person that I would choose to be around were he not family. I'm talking about this now because there is apparently a lot of ignorance about there about abuse and recovery, about how surviving it means keeping the good parts of yourself even if they are tied to experiences with the people who hurt you.
It's not black and white, and there are so many shades of gray that the mind will boggle. But you sort through them anyway, and you find your own happiness in there somewhere. Peace.
Oh, and you anonymous people? If you're going to post snarky things in the comments? Leave a name. I know that some people don't have blogger or google accounts or don't feel comfortable leaving an e-mail address. I've told people in the past, pick a pseudonym and stick to it. Be accountable for your words on some small level. It is so easy to be mean and insensitive when nobody is looking you in the eyes. And it's a lot easier for me to take you seriously and to give you the benefit of the doubt if I can at least associate a name with your words.
posted by Shelly Kang at 3:56 PM
19 Comments:
Hi Shelly,
I think it's generous of you to put yourself out there and express the truth and your feelings. No one has the right to diminish them!
I think it's good how you have taken your experiences and learned how to create a wonderful and healthy family. That is a testament to you. You can internalize abuse and make it kill you or you can learn and build a richer and more wonderful life.
More power to you girl.
A fan. Alice
I think you're totally right to embrace the parts of your childhood that do bring you happiness, and turn your back on the parts (and people) that make you miserable. And kudos for taking the time and energy to calmly explain it to the faceless masses out there in the inter-tubes.
However, I'm not sure I agree with your interpretation that it requires some experience with abuse to sympathize with your situation. I've never been abused, and I've never seen or heard of anyone in my family being abused, and yet...yet, I would never dream of telling someone to "just get over it". How asinine would that be? How could any person who's never been in that situation even dream to understand what it's like for someone who has?
Anyway...I just wanted to put my two cents in. Once more, kudos to you for getting your life in a place where you're happy.
I did have a small thought about the fact that your favorite recipe was from your Dad. But it was just a passing thought, and it was followed closely by a thought of how peculiar us humans are! I really respect you for putting that recipe out there, after what you wrote about your Dad, knowing that people would most likely have the response that some did.
And by the way, I love the word "snarky"!! I use it, and it is funny that there are those who have never heard it before.
Thanks again for a great blog!
I'd like to put myself in a 4th category. Someone who reads your blog and enjoys it very much, but that doesn't mean I "know" you and am qualified to judge you.
There are no perfect families and we can only do our best with the families we are given. From what you've written, it seems to me that you are doing your best. I wouldn't presume to analyze your entire history with your dad based on a few paragraphs, letters, or a recipe.
Good for you for patiently explaining these things without being overly defensive. You set a good example for many bloggers out there.
Beautifully said.
You can't choose the family you were born into. But you can make your own family (with whatever definition of family you want)- and make it a great family. :) You go girl!
The only kind of abuse I experienced in my family was lack of love from my parents and did not really realize that until my father died. He was angry at the end of his life and said some hurtful things. I carried alot of anger towards him for a while but have learned to let it go. It was his problem, not mine. He was angry at things he did not do or things he could not have. Now instead of anger I have not real feelings about my parents, no anger, no love and still some disbelief.
You are so right about the people who grew up in the family that had no dischord or problems have no clue. That would be my husband. We have been married 25 years and he still does not get it.
I think your honesty and up frontness about the whole thing is great and very healthy and I for one appreciate it and reading your blog.
ps: enjoy that chicken!!!
Rats, forgot to put my name on the post. Karyn
I sum up my relationship with my mom this way, I wasn't the daughter she wanted and she wasn't the mother i wanted. I been to therapy and told to tell her off, lets see she is 71 years old think things are going to change? I have good memories i keep too but the bad are there too, I think it helped me be the person i am today and for that i am greatful.
I admire you no end.
Barbara
I enjoy your blog very much......and was appalled at the things you endured growing up.
I completely understand why you chose not to have anything to do with your dad.
The easiest way not to lose is not to play the game!!
I always thought my folks were nutty.
Then I met my in-laws. Not knowing what I was in for, we moved to a small community to live by them.
They were very abusive to my (now ex) husband both physically, verbally and emotionally.......and he moved us right back into the middle of it!!
His inability to let go of them ruined our marriage....and I think it pretty much ruined his life.
You have so much strength! I'm proud of you! You made what is a very hard decision.
From where I'm sitting you are doing a WONDERFUL job as a mom and wife.
YOU GO GIRL!!!!!!
Families are so complicated, no matter what the situation may be, there is plenty of crazy to go around. When I saw the recipe you chose, I was glad that you could still retain some pleasant memories from an otherwise crumby childhood, good for you.
You're doing great! I'm with you Shelly!
Well put! I fall into category three, experienced abuse (from step-father) and estrangement (from own father who also used religion as a weapon). You're right about hatred, it hurts you more than the person you hate. Once I let go of that I've become a much nicer person and my own life is better. My father and I are slowly building a relationship again, but it's babysteps.
Way to go and well stated - you're the best!
I went through something very similar with my family. I walked away over 20 years ago. Some contact has recently occured with some family members. I have mostly allowed it but I had to make it clear to a couple of people that I was not willing to accept the revisionist version of history that most of them bought into.
My abusing step-father had the grace to die (fell forward on is face while sitting on the toilet at work, of a massive cerebral hemmorhage---how's that for revenge?) when I was in 12th grade, 47 years ago. Mother had always admonished us to not tell, keep it a secret and we did, dutifully, until I ended up in the psychiatrist's office at age 38 because I was thinking about killing myself. I finally began to heal when I was able to admit, actually voice the words, that I wished he were still alive so I could kill him. I finally acknowledged the extent of my anger. I'm "healed" now but my younger siblings aren't. This man is still a rotten piece of history in the lives of my family, even after he's been dead for 47 years. Thank you for making this story available to those who can devive some good from it.
Screw 'em. Eat whatever chicken you want, share it with the world. Your blog, your rules.- spazzmanda.com
Why don't you prosecute for the past sexual abuse, I don't think there is a statute of limitations for that. By the way I'm not trying to be snarky, just think that its important to prosecute criminals, why let them live happy peaceful lives like nothing is wrong?
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