You recently asked me why I thought you were judgmental.
Where should I start?
You have failed to accept daddy’s nine-year relationship with his wife. You have failed to accept that I am not my sister and continue to compare me to her and her “perfect, white picket fence” life. You fail to say anything nice to me when you see me and you seem to be fixated on the fact that I never call you, when you know full well why I don’t.
Dad is going to be 53 years old this year. He has a 26-year-old child and a 23-year old child, soon to be 24. He has been with his wife since August 2005 and while you pretend to like his new family on the outside, inside you’re judging your black little soul away. You insult him by comparing his new wife to my mother. You feel the incessant need to constantly bring up the fact that he married into five additional children that will “suck away” his money and everything he’s worked for. You question his motives every day and when he had his seizure, your tactless mouth told him that you “expected” it would happen someday – instead of asking if he was okay, you told him that you knew it would happen someday. You question how he spends his money, how he saves. You question why he helps raise the three youngest stepchildren and the step-grandchild. You question why he works two jobs and what need he feels to go back to school to earn his Master’s Degree. You tell him you support him in his endeavors and yet, turn around and ask me why he’s doing what he’s doing and that he’s sure to head to an early grave.
You ask me, every time I see you, why I haven’t lost weight. On the contrary, it’s “how have you gained so much weight?” … “Have you seen how small and fit your sister is?”… “Have you seen her body?”… I usually nod and agree that yes, she is doing well for herself, and leave it at that. You hold her in the highest regard because she has a college degree she’ll do nothing with, she married a man in the Army that will ensure she will never have to work another day in her life, she moved to Washington “like a grown up” and has plans of grandeur. I am your bastard grandchild. I am your first, but I am the bastard of the family, in your judgmental eyes. You regard me as you regard my father. With disgust. With disdain. With mistrust. With speculation. With disappointment. I chose to not pursue college because I didn’t have the motivation, want, nor money, to. I chose to pursue a job to provide for myself and for my future family. I prefer good food and good drinks in good company than losing two hours of my life a day to the gym and multiple more watching what I eat. I like to laugh, eat, drink, dance and spend money. I will dye my hair every color of the rainbow and get more and more tattoos until you no longer recognize who I am. You question why I work the job I do and question why I don’t go back to school. You bring up my past mistakes and throw them in my face as if they were nothing.
You idolize my sister. She has the “outer her” covered. Supportive husband, nice house, new state, religion, friends, college degree, fit body. The “inner her” is nothing you know of. Why, she’s as judgmental as you are. You should be proud. Her family rarely hears from her unless she needs something. She regards her friends higher than she does her own sister. She confides in her friends more than her own sister. She says she has no money and yet buys nothing but top of the line clothes. She’s tens of thousands of dollars in debt, but that’s okay, right? Because she’s “perfect”. YOU raised your daughter (my aunt) to be the same judgmental, condescending, conceited little twat she is. But in your distorted, twisted world, that’s the right way to live.
I’m judged on my hair color, weight, paycheck. My husband is judged on his paycheck and job choice. My father is judged on his career choices, school choices and family. My sister is judged on nothing.
Why are you judgmental? Because you cannot accept the things you don’t want to see. Even if they’re thrown into the middle of your face, if you don’t agree with it, you judge. You tell dad I’m lying about where we live because we use a PO box for our mail; people can’t possibly say they live where they live and have a PO box at the same time, can they? You tell dad you expected him to eventually have a seizure and you call his wife a moocher. I’m fat, chubby, chunky, pudgy and tell me I should “lay off of the cookies so [you] can look like [your] sister,” right? If I lost weight, I wouldn’t have to be so self conscious and could fit into a bikini?
I don’t even know why I let you bother me as much as you do. But here’s something for you: I am disappointed in you. I am disappointed at how sad and meaningless your life has become so that you feel the need to occupy yourself by judging the lives of others. You once told me I should respect my elders, no matter how they treat me. Fuck you. You don’t deserve my respect and you have never earned it. When you blatantly insult my father and myself, every day, because of the choices WE made for OUR lives, you deserve nothing. Not my time, energy, effort or love. You can get all of those from your “golden grandchild,” my sister.
You do not get to question the lives of others and expect to not receive any repercussions.
You are a sad individual. I will never call you again and I will never talk to you unless it’s absolutely required in a civil setting.
You are such a disappointment and I am disgusted with you.
Blue-Eyed Rockabella 