My New Identity

So now that I have all of this information, I have created yet another place where I don’t know where I belong. I have always felt like I am an outsider, even in my own body. I look in the mirror and see something very different than what I think I look like. I’m not sure where it started, but every time I’ve felt I belonged in a community, something reminds me why I don’t belong. The most recent was at a job. They ‘restructured’ and I no longer have a place in their organization. I remember instances that I felt alone or cast out but not knowing my genetics has always been a big thing for me. I mean every time you go to a doctor, they ask you about your family history and I always say, I don’t know half of my biology.

Growing up my immediate family wasn’t particularly affectionate. I remember my parents hating each other. And when someone is so filled with hate, it’s hard to also love. I’m not sure why they hated each other, they each have a reason for the divorce, but the short answer is, my dad blamed my mom and she was done dealing with him cheating on her. It’s hard to not trust your husband. It’s hard to live with that sadness and hurt (I know this because I went through it too – remember the redhead ex-husband?). It’s hard to care for yourself and others when that is the case. I remember so little about my childhood. I only remember laughing with my grandparents and brother. I don’t remember ever laughing with my parents. Could he have been that sad all the time? I am sure there are times when we laughed together. I’ll have to look for pictures.

I tend to break my life up into segments. The first segment is the time we lived in Windsor, CT. That is when we were a family. My parents bought a house after Peter was born and it was the first place I ever lived. The second segment was when we moved to West Hartford, CT. It was hard for everyone to make new friends, but we were closer to Grandma and Papa (mom’s parents) and to Grandma Roz too. My Grandparents were at our house a lot. The third segment was when Grandma Roz died suddenly. I couple this time with my parents’ divorce. I think with my grandma gone, there wasn’t anything my mom was willing to put up with about my dad anymore. Grandma Roz was what kept my parents married. I don’t know how close together these events are, but I think the bond with my parents broke when she died.

The fourth segment was after the divorce and being separated from my brother. We had weird visitation, separately with the other parent on Wednesdays and would spend weekends together, at whichever house. I think we both hated this. My dad always brought his girlfriend along or the girlfriend was something to do with our plans. I spent a lot of time alone when it was his turn. Peter was with friends, I had the TV, frozen pizza and a deck of cards. Sometimes I did things with my dad, but mostly he had ‘work’. I remember going to the girlfriend’s family events and various other things, but I profoundly remember feeling alone. Mom was also dating at this time, so there were awkward moments with strange men in my house….until Terry. That’s the fifth segment.

Terry and my mom decided to get married. He moved into our house and after they were married, they had my fantastic little sister! This is an extreme simplification of course. My house was no longer our house, we had a new person there, not related to me. Only as an adult do I realize how I wasn’t actually a part of the new family that they created. I knew very little about his family. I realize I was part of his life, but not in his life. I’m not sure that this makes 100% sense. I realized all of this when his dad (Grandpa Mushy) died a few years ago. This was the worst sense of not belonging I have ever felt. I loved his father. I would visit him with my family and I felt a great sense of connection to him. He had a wonderful sense of humor and told great stories. When he died, I wasn’t mentioned in his obituary or in the service. It was as if I didn’t exist to him or his family. But I did.

This is when all of the true feelings of not belonging anywhere came bubbling up for the first time. I realized I never felt at home in any other home that my mom lived in after he came into our lives. My mom had two different parts of her life, the one with Terry and the one with my brother and I. I didn’t realize how separate they were. Terry’s family and my mom’s family rarely had meals or holidays together. Their siblings don’t really know each other. The not belonging felt more profound after Mushy died. It was everywhere and I didn’t even realize it.

I still don’t know where the red hair comes from!