Be my real self around my family

That entry from 22 months ago where I mentioned the two things…well.

I was down at my brother’s last week, and the emigration thing kind of…came out. Well, it wasn’t totally unplanned. Hubby and I were on a shopping trip to buy someone a birthday card to give to them before we left, and I saw a magazine with a relevant article in, and I passed it to him to read.

He didn’t act as fazed as I thought he would be. I think it might not have entirely sunk in because we were just hanging around prior to making our way home. Plus, things have changed for him lately, and…well, it’s weird, but once it was the situation that he wanted to go to the US and he didn’t realize I did. Now he knows I do, and I’m not sure he wants to any more. Or thinks it’ll be possible for him. He keeps going on about how they can just throw you out anytime even if you have a visa, and I’m guessing he’s heard somebody’s horror story from somewhere.

Whatever. I’ll see whether anything gets mentioned next time we’re round there.

It felt like so little of a big deal that I’m not yet feeling I can mark this off as done. No way.

(Oh, and rather bizarrely, he seems to be under the impression that we were thinking about Canada. Not sure where he got that from. Last time I checked, Seattle was definitely in the USA. D’you think I’d have hung around on this one for this long if it wasn’t?)

OK. Some background first – cut as short as possible to avoid boring to tears anyone who’s actually interested in all this.

My mother, I’ve often joked (through gritted teeth) is the kind of person who would turn Jesus away from her door for having long hair and a dirty robe. Appearances are everything to her. I grew up with this, and I quickly learned that because I didn’t come up to her exacting standards, nothing else I did registered as having any importance (unless, of course, it was construed as taking up precious time I could have spent styling my hair). Consequently, I learned to hide a lot of my life away from the entire family, in case it got back to her and became the subject of criticicm or ridicule.

These days, when I’m with other family members, someone will almost always make some kind of positive comment on my appearance. And I’m not sure how I feel about that. OK, I think I’m slightly fazed by compliments in that area anyway, after years of hearing nothing but criticism. I suspect they’re trying to boost my confidence. Which is nice…but it makes me wonder, am I still just my looks?

I am, face it, however much time I spend on all the girlie beauty stuff (which frankly, bores me actually), never going to be what is coloquially known as a ‘looker’. I like to think I have talents in other areas. But I can’t really blame the family, perhaps, because this is not stuff I’ve ever felt able to show them, so how can they comment on it?

And then I suppose I’m half afraid that the other stuff I’ve done is mediocre after all and I was right not to tell them about it. Or it’s just too weird for them, which it might well be – most of the rest of my family live very different lifestyles from me and the hubs.

I don’t know. Advice would be welcome, if anyone has any…

I’ve realized there are, at the moment, two things that would definitely mean I’d be as honest with my family as I am with some other people.

Thsi would apply if I either:

a) Showed them my tattoos

or

b) Told them about our emigration plans.

It’s going to have to happen by small increments, because I don’t feel ready for either of those yet. I keep asking myself ‘What’s the worst that could happen if you did?’ and you know…I’m really not sure.

I think I’ll leave it there for now…

Perhaps the definition of ‘family’ here is rather too broad.

Am I faking round my whole family for the sake of just one family member? Because if that’s so, that’s a bit daft of me, now, isn’t it?

I’ve already learned that two people are far more supportive of me on a certain issue than I thought they would be. Maybe I AM just paranoid. Then again, maybe it would be unwise to make assumptions right now. We’ll see…

It’s hard. To some extent, I put on a fake face of some kind every time I’m around them.

I would love to just be able to stop hiding it all. To just say to them:
Look. Here I am. Me. As I am. Complete with my art, my music, my weird beliefs, my uncomfortable politics, my vast book collection, my tattoos, my old furniture and secondhand clothes, my moods, the things i really love and hate, what I want to do with my life. My life.

Part of me would love to do this. Part of me couldn’t bear to deal with the aftermath. There are very few things short of actual criminality that would make my family disown me, but probably a lot that would make things more strained and awkward than they ever have been, and I don’t know how I’d deal with that. I’d prefer either openness or a complete cutoff, but it doesn’t work like that.

If you’ve done this kind of thing and lived to tell the tale, please tell me how.