Goddmanit-how honest should I get and how much should I reveal….
I can write funny articles all day long but…
I have a sister. We weren’t very close growing up.
We witnessed our parents domestic violence. From my eyes, it was what an MRA would call mutually combative. I remember one time after Saturday morning cartoons. We both hid under the kitchen table nervously smiling at each other. Yelling their favorite insults, “Wicked Witch of the West.” And “Mr. Wonderful.” The sound of objects smashing against walls. Yup, both me and my sis were scared. We didn’t want to make them any angrier. We didn’t want to get hit. We were as different as could be. She was the nice girl with lots of friends who learned to read before her older brother. I was the hyper kid getting sent home early for cussing or punching someone. Yet at this moment, maybe it was the closest we ever were. We both had the mutual goal of not being hit by our mean, destructive parents.
Anyways, as I said above we weren’t very close growing up. I moved away from home as soon as I got the chance. My sister also moved to another city shortly thereafter. I only saw her a handful of times. One time when I stayed with her, I wasn’t very comfortable with her strange friends. Growing up, she was allot more social than I. She always had a circle of friends– I had videogames and the dog. We both became more estranged from our log divorced parents as the years went by. I basically lost touch with her and couldn’t of told you whether she was in New England or New Mexico.
I got a call from my mother one day. She was in the hospital with my sister. My sister’s boyfriend had attacked her and smashed her face in. She needed to get reconstructive surgery. It was one of those things where I suppose no one gets the full story. She was supposed to go to trial after she pressed charges but I never found out what happened. In the one or two calls we had since the incident, she said she still loved the motherfucker.
I never really knew what to make of things. Even after the thousands of articles I’ve read I still don’t know what to make of things. I’ve seen the phrase that the men and women of a certain time and age deserve each other circulate through the manosphere. I always felt that way of my mother and father. They were just two awful people who found each other and terrorized each other and their children. I found the word victim blaming when reading about gender. Maybe I did that at one point. I often thought that people who get into abusive relationships deserve each other. I know I’ve been calloused over the years. The bullying I went through growing up, and, yeah, even dealt out is probably most comparable to the hazing some soldiers go through to toughen them up for war. By becoming “hardened,” I’ve lost a good deal of ability to feel for others.
Anyways, In my previous post I wrote about the movie Shame which revolves around two f*cked up characters, a brother and a sister. At one point, the sister says, “We’re not bad people, we just come from a bad place.” I thought that if god is real (s)he is one sick, twisted asshole and it was like some kind of callous experiment. To have two kids from a shitty family life and see which one would be more screwed up. I have my scars and my sister has hers, they just show differently.
I haven’t spoken to my sister for close to two years. I was surprised when a day or two after Christmas I received a present from her. It was a DVD of a band I liked when growing up and some chocolate chip brownies. I sent her a gift card hoping that it would get to her by new years. She sent me a thank you note.
(Update-In the original version I didn’t make it clear that my mom called and my sister was attacked. Re-edited to show that. Thanks to Socialkenny whose comment pointed that out.)