Letter to MIL

Things have changed from one year ago.  Things are better than they were when I started this blog.  I have so many things I want to write about, healing things, changing things, ways that I am better (if not the situation.  Which I've come to decide will never be "better".  I can only hope to manage it.)  It's not easy now.  It's not without strife and pain.  But I'm not on the floor.  I'm not on the edge.  I'm not ready to jump off.

I have lots to update on.  Lots to write about my NM and Nsis.  I need to just to a "facts" update to catch everyone up.  But that will be later.  I am in a place of more peace with my NM and NSis.  I think I'm managing with them (which in a lot of ways because I am managing without them.)  They are not different, but I am.  I have worked through some issues with my father.  Well, not with him, but some issues within myself with him.  Again, it's a work in progress, but there is an, overall, progress.  Maybe not linear.  Maybe it's back and forth.  But I think the overall direction is forward for me.

But there is one person (well one and my association and enmeshment the family related) who I'm still struggling with.  Whom I still can't seem to let get under my skin.  I don't know why she annoys me still so much.  Why I can't figure out how to manage my feelings about her better.  Why she still just plain pisses me off.  So, I'm going to write out this letter to my narcy-MIL.  A letter I will never send, but if she should ever ask (and hell will most likely be frozen over) why I dislike her so much, why we have such a strained relationship, I'll have worked out my thoughts before hand.  (I apologize in advance to any readers, the letter will most likely be disjointed and disconnected).

Dear MIL,

I know you feel that there is tension between us.  I know you think I am a difficult daughter-in-law.  I know that you worry and fret and stress because you just don't know what to do.  I know you have expressed concerns to family members about me.  Their words to me, although not direct, make it clear that you have been discussing me.

From the beginning you were never interested in getting to know me.  You were never interested in a relationship with me.  You never wanted to grow and bond and learn about each other.  You were not interested in developing a friendship with me.  Or making memories together.  You were interested in having a relationship but you wanted it to be instantaneous.  Automatic.  A nicely labeled partnership.  You were interested in keeping me under wraps.

You spent a lot of time telling me about your family.  I got a lot of "lessons".  History lessons about you, your son (my husband), his brothers, your life, their childhood.  You rarely asked about me.  Even to this day you rarely ask about me.  And if you do, it's all gushy and phony and I know you won't remember a damn thing about it.  If I told a story, you topped it.  "OH, you danced?  OH, (DH) one a dance contest ONCE."  (emphasis mine.)  Everything wrapped back to you.  I felt like I was being read the "welcome" manual.  Like the list of things I needed to know to be in the family.  But you didn't want to hear about me.  You never listened, you never asked.  You often spoke about me to DH in third person, as I sat there.  "OH, (DH) is that shirt Jessie is wearing from that winery you and I were talking about."  (This was a double wammy.  Not only was she talking about me as if I wasn't standing right there, but also making sure I knew he had been discussing things with her.)  You made sure I understood how your family acted, the rituals, the expected behaviors.  How to "fit in" with the group.  You weren't interested in welcoming me.  Or making me feel comfortable.  You wanted to convert me.  You never appreciated my discomfort at your family's loud, brash ways.  And if you did, you implied I was somehow "weird" for behaving with manners and respect.  Making me a black sheep.  Implying both to your family and me that I was somehow "foreign".

After family lessons, you worked on converting me.  Since you didn't know me, it never occurred to you (or you simply didn't care) that I may have done things differently.  That I had different feelings and view points and thoughts.  I think I'll learn towards the side of you not caring about my viewpoints.  Because if you respected and cared for them, you wouldn't have been concerned with changing me.  You wanted me to be Christian.  You pushed your views on me.  You sat me down and told me God had sent you messages for me.  That he was talking to me through you.  At the time, I was young and vulnerable and wanted so badly to fit it.  I remember fidgeting nervously at my reflection in the mirror before I met you.  I wanted so badly to have a family, to fit in.  To be liked by you.  At the time, I felt touched that God was even reaching me at all. I had felt so lonely and abandoned and desperate after my family broke up.  I wanted to be loved and it felt like love.  It felt like love that you wanted to Baptize me, even if it was clear that you wanted your son's wife to be baptized before she married him.  You pressured me to say I accepted beliefs, despite knowing I felt questions, to slap a label on me.  To make me worthy.  And you insinuated over and over that I wasn't worthy enough.  You made it clear that you thought my SIL was amazing:  Christian, an athlete, blond.  All things I am not.  You made it clear that I was not Christian enough.  You made it clear through many mean and public comments on my chest size.  You made it clear every time you criticized me in those first years.  You had taught your family that "teasing people" was a bonding thing.  So you "teased" (read picked on people for physical attributes like being fat or skinny or having no boobs) people.  There is a whole separate post on how I am angry about how you set up your disabled son as the scapegoat.  Or how you made your other son such a momma's boy he can't do anything without you.  Lots of things I've seen you do to others.  But this is about me (and frankly the post would be WAY TOO LONG to include it all.).  So you teased me.  Criticized me.  Got angry when I didn't take your suggestions about my wedding.  You badgered me.  You've harassed me about having "your grandkids".  You've pointed out my flaws, in a subtle and "loving" way to me and my DH and god knows who else.  You wanted to change me.  To make me one of you.  How in the hell is that supposed to make me feel?  It makes me feel like I was never good enough for you.  Like who I was, was unimportant, not valued and wrong.  Even today you do not know me at all.  You would struggle to tell me the name of my step mother.  You know nothing about me or who I am.

You've long been jealous of me. You set that up from the beginning.  From the first year or so, when you sat me down and told me about your SIL who never allowed your MIL to see her son.  Who horrible it was.  How sad MIL was.  How awful SIL was.  An awful bitch who keep MIL from her grandkids and son.  You repeated this story.  How SIL never tried to be part of the family.  All you son's felt the same way about their aunt.  You told me how fearful you were of that happening to your sons.  How you never wanted to be "that MIL" so you would do anything to keep them close.  To you, you thought that meant a "good MIL".  But that was your version of a good MIL: one who never said no (but resented people taking advantage of her), held her tongue (but complained to everyone else), and stayed out of the way (but really inserted herself every chance she got).  You attempted to manipulate me and everyone around me to keep this from happening.  You're jealousy and your fear have driven almost every interaction with me.  You have been so fearful of "losing your son" that you attempted to control everything about the situation.

When your attempts to convert me started to quite working, you worked on sabotaging me.  You bad talked me.  You set me up to have incidents with family members.  You've gossiped and talked badly about me. You gossip about everyone.  Everyone.  You invaded my privacy.  You walked in on me several times in my bedroom without asking.  You spread information I told you to other family members.  You talked about personal parts of my body.  Then you implied I was uptight.

When that didn't work, you decided to become me.  You copied me.  You did everything I did.  You flattered me and talked me up to everyone, especially DH.  You exclaimed how wonderful I was.  I often tell DH I should just write you a manual, as you've tried so desperately.

You have tried to control me and DH.  You've pushed us (especially DH) to back you up, or to speak your words as if they were his own.  You badgered me about grand kids, and when to get married, and pushed your family traditions on me (so it could be like DH had it growing up!).  You had to be informed of everything.  You loved to rub it in my face when DH had talked to about something personal.  You acted as if it was a victory.  Consequently, he doesn't tell you anything any more.  He knows you have a big mouth.  You've never been a confidant, a supporter, a listener for him.  You've always used knowledge about others to make yourself important.  You want to be on top, that's why you have to be controlling.  You want to be the sun and have other's orbit around you.

I'm angry with some of the ways you've raised your son.  You never taught him to feel emotions or even allow them.  Consequently, he struggles with anger at times.  He sees every negative emotion as anger, and that is not allowed.  He is defensive.  It has taken a lot of hard work for him and me to work through that and teach him to handle things better.  It has been a struggle.  I hate that your attempts to make life easy for your sons, meant you did a lot of things for them.  You taught them that mothers just did it all, all the time.  You didn't teach him or his brothers to recognize other's emotions well.   You taught him to give in to his spoiled, selfish side.  (For the record, the boy I met that became my husband is not the same person now.  It has taken many, many years of work for us to get to a healthier state.  And I wasn't there either.)  You taught your sons to sell someone out if it meant looking good (moral, kind) to someone else.  You taught them that family ALWAYS came first and that all requests of family HAD to be granted.  You've never accepted that we are now 5 separate, but related families, but expect us to still function as one unit.  You have never allowed your boys to grow up, yet you agonize when they are too dependent on you.  You have never encouraged individuation or appreciated uniqueness in your kids (or DILs).  You value sameness and oneness.  To you, being different is being wrong.  So if we like to be different than you, you see it as being wrong.  That is probably why you've tried to be me.  Since you couldn't convert me, you figured being like me would make us the same again and there fore, right.  You have tore at every boundary any one has tried to put on you.  You demand that no one has any boundaries.

Even now your emotionless-ness amazes me.  You have an uncanny ability to not be able to see anything from someone else's perspective.  You are cold and dry in difficult moments.  You never said a word, not one word to me on my wedding day to your son.  On the day we buried your MIL, your calm, almost serene face made me shiver.  You never seemed sad or caring towards the pain of your husband.  Even DH said you seemed like you were at a wedding, not a funeral.   But for you, the process of her death was difficult and you were, clearly, glad it was over.  And while that was understandable, it blinded you completely to the feelings of others.  You've always put your feelings first.  You've always worried about your discomfort, or excitement, or happiness first.  At weddings, at funerals, at the births of grand children, your obliviousness to anyone else around you was...saddening.  DH used to describe you as just "the mother of boys", like you were just tougher.  But I've seen that emotionless-ness on my own NM.  And I see it in you.

I see it now with my kids, your "precious" grand kids.  The kids you hold ransom by promising a toy at the end of the meal, knowing full well that it will keep the kids by your side.  The kids that you are so oblivious to the feelings of that you think the baby was laughing and not crying (not that you checked to tell).  The kids that you demand to be around but never actually invest in.  You don't get to know them, or chat with them, or really play with them.  You sit near them and talk at them "Grammy just thinks your the best!" over and over.  She talks about them.  But she doesn't send cards or gifts or do special things.  Only if it benefits her.  She would never give a toy that she couldn't personally hand over (although she tosses the toy to the kid in the walmart sack, not bothering to help them open it.)  She misses emotional cues and boundary clues with them.  My son was long been overwhelmed by her.  She grabs them and demands they sit on her lap and grabs at their food.  She expects no boundaries.   She demanded kisses from my son, despite his obvious discomfort.  She likes being a grandma, demanding my son take pictures so she can show her friends (seriously).  She likes showing them off and talking about them to people.  But she hasn't invested at all in them.  It is clearly all about getting her needs met.

You've been rude, inviting others to things you shouldn't have.   You've taken liberties you shouldn't.  You find subtle ways to criticize me or imply that I don't measure up to you.  You take opportunities to belittle my accomplishments ("Well, this is good lasagna, but I make really good spaghetti.")  You buy my ridiculous gifts in efforts to impress me, but clearly know nothing about me.  You have blamed me for all the problems in our relationship and I've seen little that you've changed, other than you've changed tactics.  You compliment me (to DH), you apologize (to DH) when you've wronged me (but not me), you gush over me and tell DH how much you like me, or like what I do.  You've sent FIL to be your flying monkey and get your way.  You've made it look like you are trying.   You may have fooled others, but not me.

I wish I could say these things to your face.  But the FEW times I have tried to talk to you, you have gotten defensive and stormed away.  You've said some very mean things or childish things when confronted.  You never accept responsibility and you've NEVER apologized for anything.  I mean, every mortal fuck's up once and awhile and says they are sorry, but not you.  You continue to play this surfacy game of everything's OK and refuse to have any confrontation at all.  You run away.  You pretend we are one, big happy family.  You sweep it all under the rug and play the part.  You've never had a real interaction with me in all these years.  You act like a child if anyone teases you, or says anything less than flattering.  You never once admit you have flaws or things to work on.  And god forbid anyone say that either.

It upsets me that I have to be the "bad one".  That I take all the responsibility.  But in reality you set me up from the beginning.  I tried, desperately, to please you.  I went on family trips, I bit my tongue when my feelings were trampled on or beliefs laughed off.  I tried to get along.  I did the things I was suppose to.  I just couldn't sell me soul.  I couldn't be something I'm not.  And I know that you will never, ever accept that. But you are my husband's mother.  And I have to accept that you will always be around.    Your fear that I would take your son was created by you so that you would always look like the good guy.  But in doing so, you made me the bad guy and your enemy.  I was never your enemy and it pisses me off  that you were damned determined to make me that.