part 2: aftermath

I shut the door in my mother's face.

I shut it and locked it.

It was a little stunning. My heart pounded in my chest. I texted my husband to tell him what happened: "I just shut the door in my mom's face. Fuck."

I closed the curtains to my room, because it was getting dark and I was about to take a shower anyway, and I thought I noticed a van parked behind my car. My parents' van.

Text: "I think they're still parked out there."

I felt grateful that the kids were all watching a video in the office, oblivious to what had just happened. In the past they have been around when my mom showed up at the door. I told them, "I'm going to take a shower. You guys stay here. If the doorbell rings, please don't answer it. I don't want you to answer the door while I'm in the shower." I felt fairly confident that they were too tuned in to the video to hear the door. I shut the office door, just in case. I felt like I couldn't actually get into the shower, because what if she tried to get into the house? I couldn't believe I had just shut the door on my smiling, Valentine-bearing mother.

Text: "I need a shower, kids are in office watching video. I feel like a jerk." My parents' car was still at the curb, nearly five minutes after the door. I tried not to imagine the scene inside the car. The driver-side door was still open.

The phone rang. Nervously, I checked the ID: my husband. He had been near an exit at work and left as soon as he got my first text. I felt sheepish that he did this for me, but also relieved. He walked in the door moments later. By now my heart wasn't racing, and my parents' car was gone, and the adrenaline in my system was making me just a little shaky.

I turned on a playlist of favorite, energizing songs to try to drown out the nerves and the oh-my-god-I-shut-the-door-in-the-nice-granny's-face feeling. I felt shitty. Who the hell does that? She was smiling. I had a flash of happiness to see her before remembering that she's not a safe person. I shut the door on her smiling face. I didn't know how to feel about that.

I reminded myself that I would not condemn a battered woman for shutting the door in her ex-spouse's face if he showed up unannounced at the door. I would not ask anybody else to let their abusive parent in.

I reminded myself that her happy-everything's-ok face was typical for her, brushing things under the carpet, pretending we're all loving and great. I reminded myself that there has still not been any communication from her containing her own thoughtful reflections on the past, or her plans for the future, or an apology of any kind. Only cards telling me why I'm wrong or saying "I love you" without any recognition of what happened in the past or what's happening now. I reminded myself that I have set a firm boundary and that she continues to ignore and disrespect it.

I still felt like a schmuck. What can I say, old habits die hard. I know that she was hurt and/or angry. I hate having had a part in that. I wish she hated having had a part in my own hurt.

I got out, dried off. My phone rang. My parents' area code. First three digits of one of their cell phones. I pressed ignore. Downstairs, I heard my husband welcoming our babysitter. He came up, I asked him to check my voicemail for me when he was able.  He told me he had told the sitter that my parents might drop by and asked her not to let them in. "Sorry for the drama," he said.

New blouse, red shoes, earrings he gave me for Christmas. Eyeliner in the new way I've been doing it, which he loves. Lipstick kisses on the kids' cheeks. Out the door. I look up and down the street. It's quiet. The cars belong to our neighbors. I'm safe. When will I actually feel safe?

my friend, your friend

I hate it when this happens.

A family friend sent me a friend request today. This is a woman I like. I've known her for more than twenty years. Her kids were friends with my youngest siblings. I babysat those kids and later went to their weddings. This woman helped me to sew a formal dress one time, and gave my wedding dress a nice, clean, safe place to hang out until my wedding day (my family's home was, to put it mildly, squalid). She threw a wedding shower for me. She put my husband and I up in her home when we visited town (my family lacked space). I participated several times in her annual yard sale. She was like an aunt to me. She's far from perfect, but who's perfect? She was good to me.

The thing is, she's my parents' friend. She started as my parents' friend and at the end of the day, she is still their friend. She is not really, when it comes down to it, my friend. And she's a very talkative, gossipy woman (I say that as somebody who can gossip her fair share, too). I used to be Facebook friends with her children, but ultimately they were really my siblings' friends more than they were mine, and they were asking my siblings questions about me and my parents that made my sibs feel uncomfortable, so I decided to unfriend them. They weren't really my friends and I valued my sibs more than I valued them.

I don't want this woman to carry information about me back to my parents. It's not that I particularly care who knows what I'm doing or saying, it's the idea of having somebody who is more on my parents' side than on  mine acting as a witness to my life. I don't need that.

So I clicked "ignore" and then, because stupid Facebook doesn't allow you to just delete the request outright, went into "hidden requests" and deleted it. I felt like a jerk. I like this woman. I'd love to visit her. If she lived close by, I'm sure I'd see her now and then, stop to chat in the grocery store or whatnot.

I hate that in the name of maintaining boundaries between myself and my parents, some relationships like this end up being collateral damage. It whittles away at my tribe and causes me to have to very purposefully develop new relationships, rather than being able to enjoy old relationships the way a normal person might.

And isn't that really the problem? I'm not normal. My parents aren't normal. And I hate it.