Cheers! It’s New Year’s in September
On December 31st of 2023 at 11:59pm in the backyard of a small eclectic house in San Antonio, I raised my glass and brought in the new year with a kiss. It was as sweet as the promise of a new chapter in 2024. I was excited to find what was next for me, what new adventures I would go on and what new aspects of myself I had yet to explore. I was excited and immediately started listing all the things I wanted to do this year that I hadn’t previously. Whether it was because I was too afraid to be anything more or I allowed mediocre distractions and excuses keep me from my goals.
This time would be different, I set a plan to figure out all that I wanted to do differently this year started on the path to making it a reality finally. As the plane landed at Midway airport and I took in the fresh cool Chicago air I searched for all the pics to add to my growing vision board. A text flashed across my screen, the name was one I was hoping not to see again for awhile but there it was.
TL;DR it was familial connection that for awhile now I have been trying to set some boundaries with and distance my myself from for my own healing. They had asked if they could stay with me for 3 months until they got somethings figured out and they would also contribute towards rent. So I agreed thinking that this would be a short term thing but I would soon find out that it wouldn’t be the case.
I had taken some great strides in my life before this and therapy was helping tremendously but nothing could’ve prepared me for what was in store. When attempted to set boundaries and rules for my home they were met with attitude and childish behavior. They would comply but it seemed like almost immediately they would go back to not doing as I asked, a pattern I knew all too well and had witnessed on many occasions while growing up.
I isolated myself and tried to ignore their existence but every time I’d enter the common space (the living room and kitchen) they were there and their habits quickly consumed the space and my once clean and harmonious home turned into something I could no longer recognize. It was if they had taken over and I had a sinking feeling that it was going to get worse. I tried to continue to live my life normally, going about my days working in my room and only leaving to walk around the neighborhood or to make something delicious.
No matter what distractions I tried to employ they were always there and I couldn’t escape thier energy. I used to revel in coming home and unwinding from the days adventures, but now I was no longer awarded a reprieve. I gleefully counted down to the day that they would be gone and I could get back on track to accomplishing the goals I had so fervently planned prior to their arrival.
I should’ve expected this, I saw it from the beginning, that first night I knew this would happen. They came to me pleading for more time and even though every fibre of my being cried out that I should say ‘No’, I instead said ‘Yes’. No timeline, no plan, and what seemed like no options. I became hopeless and those 3 months prior became a routine. Wake up, work, avoid, ignore, and distract. My plans, my vision seemed like a fantasy now as I reverted back into a child in their presence. I, a twenty-eight year old woman, felt like a mere teenager with no options or choice in the matter.
Secretly, I made plans for my escape from this situation and in each therapy session I was given tools to add to my arsenal. My lease was up in the fall and I needed to leave even though I loved that apartment and wished many more things could’ve happened there but it was my out from this situation. So I left without a word each weekend to find a place that suited the live I wanted to have, the goals that frozen over in the winter and were beginning to thaw again as the temperature rose in the summer. And one uneventful Wednesday I found it, the place I would call home. It had everything that I wanted and needed and most importantly no space for them to follow me. I had the lease sent to me expeditiously and I paid all that was necessary and signed on the dotted line. I secured my escape, my release back into the adult life I cultivated before their presence took over my life.
I walked into the room, stifling my excitement, “My lease is up in September and I will be moving out to another place.“ I stuttered. They looked up at me with a blank expression and said simply “Ok, I don’t plan to be here that long.” And I thought that was that. My release came swiftly and weeks prior to my move they told me that a wrench was thrown in their plan yet again, they needed more time. I was devastated, I silently sobbed in my room as every single goal crumbled to dust, I couldn’t escape them. I couldn’t get out of bed, I wanted to feel nothing as I suffocated under the weight of familial obligation.
I prayed to the universe, my ancestors or whatever god was merciful enough to listen for help. I didn’t want to face them, I was terrified to speak up and say “No, you can’t come with me. Find someplace else to stay.” It may seem like such an easy statement to make but anyone who has ever been taught from a young age that their feelings don’t matter when it comes to family, you always gotta look out for your family (even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process).
I’m not sure who answered me but I am glad they did. I mustered up the courage to hope again and pieced together those shattered remains of my goals. Everyday i found the strength to push back that ever growing ivy they had spread across the apartment. I could feel myself healing the wounds that they caused so long ago. And as the days chipped down and we were only a week away, I sent in writing yet again my clear expectations. They were not coming with me when the first Monday in September would arrive. They again agreed and stated that they understood, but when it was only one day away they pushed back hard to make me comply.
In a battle of wills, I didn’t back down. I shouted, cried and made sure I was finally heard. And in the end I felt lighter, like the pressure from the past months had finally been released and for some reason I just knew deep in my bones that everything would be ok. I gave it to the universe and focused on my move. They came to me at the 11th hour to say that they needed help removing all their items from the apartment and with that we said our goodbyes. I sat alone in my apartment for the first time in months and all I could was sob. It was done, they were gone. No muss, no fuss like they were never even there to begin with. Like the last 8 months were a figment of my imagination, something I had conjured up in my wildest imaginations.
The move decided to derail itself from my meticulous plans and by the end of the evening I was exhausted and $400 poorer but everything was here and the new chapter could begin. I celebrated my new found freedom with champagne, 3 days off from work, a party and furiously unpacking. I needed to settle in and start writing that new chapter, filling it with experiences separate from them.
As I stood in my new kitchen looking out the windows of my living room I stood in stillness. Listening to the subtle movements of the outside world muffled behind the sound of relaxing jazz I had playing on my TV. I rose my glass of pink Prosecco and cheered to myself “here’s to you kid”, an unfamiliar feeling bubbled up as I sipped. All I could was cry and smile, everything that I had wished for, fantasized about was coming true. I finally realized that it was pride, I was proud of myself for standing up for what I wanted. For remembering who I was and the strength I possessed but had somehow forgotten was there.
It’s never easy standing up for yourself, especially when it comes to family. But if I’ve learned anything from this long and tenuous journey it’s that the fear no matter how gargantuan you think it is. All it takes to overcome it is the courage and faith in what you desire is stronger and larger than any fear or doubt. I was far more capable of setting the boundaries that I had so easily cultivated within the 4 walls of my room. But when facing the person who had trampled them, was like fighting the big boss at the first level of a game. I was left with no weapons to defend myself and my armor was weak against their intricate strikes.
People like this thrive on this form of amnesia, if you don’t know your true worth then they can easily replace it with a diminished version that suits their benefit. When I remembered who I was and all that I had gone through, I was able to fill my arsenal and strengthen my armor so that the next I stood in front of them I wouldn’t back down.
