The Tie of Birth

It’s shocking whenever you have to face the things you’ve tried your best not to face. Not necessarily fears or phobias, although they are difficult in their own way. No, I mean rediscovering that 3 years after you pledged to stand up to your parents, you still find yourself nodding and agreeing and skulking up to the attic.

Not only can I simply not face them. I can’t not not face them. I can’t bring myself to simply walk away.

My parents are avid questioners, ‘Am I right?’ ‘What do you say to that?’ and ‘Don’t you?’ I am never a person to be unable to field an answer. I will not and do not tolerate taking untruths meekly. That is, until it’s an angry mother on the accusing side.

Three years on I was even more shocked to find my feelings afterwards are the same. I punch myself a few times, scream (quietly, lest they should hear, smell blood and come back for more) and generally look a mess. I would take a picture to show you how exactly they make me feel, but take my word for it. It ain’t pretty.

I can vividly remember writing down on one of the counsellor’s pointless sheets under ‘things in my life that I want to change’, ‘stop being walked over – by my parents’. I am an assertive person – few would tell you otherwise.

But it seems the tie of birth can still drag me down.