My lack of posting has been bugging me. Mostly I have felt like I should do some sort of recap of this last holiday break with both Violet’s family and my family (they live in the same area, randomly enough.) But this holiday was hard for me. Hard in very personal ways, which are the hardest ways for me to write about. Hard enough to induce a couple of meltdowns or breakdowns, whatever you want to call them. And the way I choose to write this blog comes with a particular filter that makes it even harder to write about this kind of stuff. Like, in this case, feeling hurt and disappointed the way I do, with my family.

The story here is tricky, because I love my family, immeasurably, and I understand them in ways and know them with layers and layers of time and connection. So by recounting snippets of moments where my grandma was remarkably rude to Violet then goes out to a world where my grandma has no reasonable and warranted back up- all of the millions of beautiful and loving things about her, you know? The fear I often have writing here, is the fear of delivering a two dimensional, one sided, flat, imbalanced reality. When what I want to do, what I try to do, is simply paint pictures, tell stories.

So, to continue annoying myself with resistant writing, the best I can do for this one is to say that Violet and I have known each others family exactly the same amount of time but the level of inclusion into each others family felt so imbalanced over the holiday it broke my heart a few different times and it kept me up at night. My family being the folks invalidating my relationship by repeatedly reinforcing, sometimes with ignorance, sometimes with intention, that Violet is not their family.

It broke my heart to watch Violet try to stay strong and kind and loving when my family would make Violet an outsider. I have never had my teeth so clamped around my tongue with them before (which is saying a lot, believe me) and the only reason I kept my mouth shut was because I feared that if I exploded and started pointing fingers they would all blame my outburst on Violet. Well, that, and Violet wouldn’t want me to defend her that way.

My instinct to defend and protect and keep Violet safe and happy and loved is potent and unstoppable. And it is mutual. I know this because she tells me and shows me this all of the time, in ways that are so intentionally loving and soft and infinite. In ways that cradle me to sleep at night, past all of the anger and anxiety and fear that I carry, into dreams about being free. She does this for me all of the time, she always has, and this, over the years, has softened my brow. And this kind of love has taught me how to hold my angry, defensive words, this time towards my family, until what I have to say has the love I feel for them tucked in as well. This is what Violet has always done for me, and this is how I am learning to love the world back.

This post was suppose to be a vague recap of my holiday adventures, but I like it better this way, and so, for now, I’ll end here.