Siblings seem complicated, says me. I don’t have any siblings, myself, and I don’t have a relationship with any of my mom’s living siblings…my aunties.

There was a time when I wanted to. There was a time when I didn’t think my relationship with them should have anything to do with my mom’s relationship with them. I wanted to know my younger cousins. I wanted them all to be a part of my life.

I have tried. It would usually start with one aunty. And it would always start off well. I think that I get along with all three of them, independently. And I like them. I really do.

In time, as they grew more comfortable with my presence in their lives, things would change.  It would start with a snide comment – and I’d feel this little burning sensation in my gut, because the comment was about my Mom and because when wrong things happen, I burn inside; my burning intuition.

I can’t even recall anything specifically that would be said, but then it would happen again, and it made me feel like an outsider. So I would separate myself from them, in response. This has been our pattern – and at one point, I had to ask myself whether it was worth it.

I don’t believe it was their intention to push me out. It was likely their misconception that in having a relationship with them, I harbored discontent with my Mom and welcomed them vocalizing their thoughts of her.

I didn’t. At all. I never will.

and I suppose they should hope that their children would feel the same about them.

and I suppose that they would understand that I won’t change – especially since, as I grow, my love and honour for her grows. They had a mother; they should understand.

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