My sister.
We lived in a city working class neighborhood with multi-generational immigrant families from many different countries. Socializing was done on the front porches as backyards were reserved for coal and chickens. Everyone walked to school, walked to church, walked to the neighborhood shopping district including the grocery store. My dad worked outside the home, my mother worked inside the home. My dad's hobbies were gardening and woodworking. My mother liked to read. We went to a Dutch Reformed church Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and up to four times on Sunday where the preacher's favorite sermon was "you're going to Hell!" I was taught that women shouldn't wear high heels, women shouldn't wear hose, women shouldn't wear short skirts, women shouldn't wear jewelry, women shouldn't wear make-up or cut their hair. I was taught that women didn't have opinions, women didn't need money and that a woman's interests were determined by her husband. It left me so confused. I had plenty of opinions and interests. Did that mean I evil?
For vacation, we visited my mother's elderly non-Dutch relatives who lived on farms. Great Aunt Mamie lived in Fennville on a fruit and asparagus farm with horses and chickens. She was a grand lady with a very green thumb. Great Grandma Colebaugh lived near West Olive. Her husband had been a broom-maker and tried to grow broom corn in Michigan but discovered it was too cold. Gram worked everyday in her vegetable field wearing a long-sleeved, ankle-length hand-made cotton dress with a sunbonnet to avoid the suntan that would have announced that she was a farm laborer. She had the most luxurious bathroom - her outhouse was a two-holer.
My mother who looked like her dad was short and round with his straight black hair, black eyes and her red-haired mother's, paste-white skin and freckles. My dad was a slightly-built 5'7" with wavy light brown hair and light eyes. My older sister who had straight black hair, black eyes, sallow complexion was taller and more athletic than my dad. I was short and round, had long wavy blonde hair with my dad's strawberry curl and hazel eyes.
I loved following my mother around trying to help with the housework. I was never good enough so she'd just grab and do it over herself. I loved watching my dad do his woodworking and begged to be allowed to try. He told me I couldn't because I was a girl. My older sister never helped anyone.
What was my older sister like? My mother would send us out to play with these instructions: To my sister - You must watch over your younger sister. To me she said you must follow and obey your older sister. When we were out of sight, my sister would push me down and run away. I tried to catch her but I couldn't keep up. I was scared when I could not obey my mother.
My sister was a constant competitor from the minute she woke up. . Her bed was better than my bed even though we had a matching set. Her dress was better than my dress even though my dad often bought us matching dresses. Her side of the car was better than my side. Her string beans were greener than my string beans. It made no sense. If she wanted to be better, that was fine with me. But she never stopped. It annoyed me so much, I never competed with anyone ever for anything. Although it may have looked like I was competing when I was only trying to prove to myself that my interests and opinions were worthwhile if based on provable facts. It has taken me a long time to learn that many women don't care about facts only feelings which is totally illogical. .
At the beach which my mother hated - both the sun and the water - she would send us out to play in the lake while she retreated to the shade. She told my sister - You must watch over your younger sister who must stay in the shallows. To me she said you must stay in the shallow end and obey your sister. As soon as my mother was out of sight, my sister disappeared into the deep end. So I stood in the shallows playing alone. After some time went by, without any warning, my sister, while swimming underwater, would grab me by the ankles and pull me under and drag me out into the deep end where she abandoned me and swam away. I would become so disoriented I didn't know which way was up. I became so terrified of water that as an adult I took the Swimming for Cowards class three times before I finally overcame that fear although I still can't put my face in the water.
At grandma's farm, my mother would send us out to play with the usual instructions. My sister would climb up a tree very high. I would try to follow but never made it past the lowest branch so that's where I'd sit admiring the view. Suddenly without warning my sister would quietly slide down the trunk and try to push me out of the tree. I learned to be afraid of heights.
On Saturday morning, my dad would do yard work and repair work around the house while my mother assisted. She would instruct my sister and me to clean our L-shaped bedroom. I cleaned my side while ignoring my sister who didn't clean her side. When I was done, my sister would tear off my bed covers, sweep my pink doll made from Kleenex and Aunt Christine's treasure box off the top of my dresser, pull my dresses out of the closet and stomp on them. I would call for my mother who would wring her hands and cry out - "let her have her way." I thought that meant that my sister had been elected for Heaven and I had been elected for Hell. The Dutch Reformed Church taught that if God knew everything, he must know before you are born when you will die and where you were going, up or down. Those pre-destined for Heaver would be forgiven their sins while those pre-destined for Hell would be designated the recipient of punishment on behalf of the Heaven-bound. It was obvious what God had elected me for. This belief would haunt me almost my entire life.
At the age of 12 my beautiful peaceful world where I felt loved ended. The elderly relatives who lived on farms died and I lost their guidance. The local neighborhood church chose to turn its back on the working class while they met the needs of the rich self-serving suburbanites. That's when church just became a fashion show, "My dress is better than yours which means I'm morally and ethically superior to you." Since I (never my sister) often had to wear dresses poorly made by my deaf grandma Hazel who had red hair, it was no contest. I always lost. We moved away to one of those rich suburban neighborhoods where everyone was the same and no one had a front porch. I made no friends among those well-dressed snobs. My older sister who knew all those adolescent social skills so well made many friends. Everyday, each and every day, she told me, "You're ugly. You're stupid. Nobody likes you." (not even God). Her friends concurred.
My dad began working 80-hour weeks. He didn't garden anymore, he didn't do woodworking anymore, he didn't put up the Christmas Tree. My mother worked full-time outside the home. By this time she knew it would do no good to instruct my sister so she didn't bother. She told me to clean the house, wash and iron the clothes, what to cook for dinner and to watch over my baby brother. Five minutes after mom left for work, my sister disappeared. I cleaned. I washed. I ironed. I cooked. I baby-sat. During the school year, my sister would hog the only bathroom for 45 minutes, come out a raving beauty but leave the room such a mess, I had to clean it before anyone else including me could use it. There was never enough time for me to get pretty, eat breakfast or even brush my teeth. . I was always late for school and the teacher reprimanded me in front of the class telling everyone that I was thoughtless and inconsiderate. .
At the end of the day, my sister would arrive home five minutes before my parents. She would be sitting primly on the living room couch while my brother continued playing quietly nearby. My mother would join me in the kitchen. Without saying a word, she would adjust the flame and after tasting everything, she would adjust the seasonings. I slunked out dejectedly. I wouldn't make it past the dining room before my dad would come in yelling at me, "What did you do all day? You're lazy!" I was punished. I thought it was because I wasn't as good at cleaning and cooking as my mother.
While the other girls were playing with their hair, clothes, make-up and boys, I learned to accept adult responsibility. I thought that it was my place to accept responsibility for others' actions even though I had no control. And it has finally become obvious that many others are more than willing to allow me to take responsibility for their actions as it lets them off the hook. .
It didn't take long before the beatings began. Every time my sister demanded something from me and I refused, she beat our little brother. The only way I could stop her was to give in. I pretended my sister was the Gestapo and it was my job to survive. Every time my sister demanded something from my mother and was refused, she beat my mother who would run and hide behind me. A grown woman hid behind a child! I fought back. Just as I was winning, my sister would sneak down around me and hit my mother who would immediately surrender. So I lost every battle but I went down swinging. I learned fear and the necessity of striking back fast. I learned that appeasement just provided temporary relief while providing more ammunition to the enemy. I became leery and was constantly on-guard particularly against cute young girls who were such phony liars.
My mother would explain her bruises to my dad by saying that she was just clumsy and fell down the stairs or bumped into a door. She explained my brother's bruises by saying boys will be boys. She even said those same things to me and I had seen my sister hit her. I began to doubt my own senses.
My dad was never home anymore. He couldn't see what was happening. My sister lied to my dad. My mother lied to my dad. My brother lied to my dad. I was the only one who told the truth, but I wasn't believed. My dad rewarded my sister who was dating the son of a doctor. He bought her fancy clothes. He bought her a fancy car. He paid for her to take yearly skiing trips out to Colorado. He paid for two vacations to Europe for her. He paid all the expenses of a four-year college education for her. He punished me.
Although I didn't know the terms I began having compulsions - walking down the exact same street even if I was going somewhere different. And I had always loved to explore. It made no sense. I began having anxiety attacks particularly in lines at the store where I was trapped by customers in front of me, customers in back of me, and other cashier stations on each side. I just had to escape and would often just run away leaving my purchases behind and being unable to shop at that store again for a long time. I saw danger everywhere particularly by cute young things who used those same adolescent social skills that my sister knew so well. I began to believe I was loony. Maybe I was. I became physically ill. We had a Dutch Reformed physician, Dr Hoogerhyde, who just told me that an illness was God's punishment for naughty children. He said that if I were good, I wouldn't be sick.
I asked a former neighborhood lady, Mrs. Patterson, for help. She didn't understand. I asked a Black female teacher, Mrs. Pulliam, for help. She was polite but blew me off. I asked the school counselor, Mr. Galant, for help. He threw his head back letting loose with a big belly laugh! How can a professional school counselor laugh at a student's cry for help? I asked my mother's Uncle Jack and Aunt Lorraine for help but they said every family had problems and mine couldn't be any worse than anyone else's. I felt so alone. I learned the pain of rejection.
When teachers challenged me at school by saving something like, you need to study harder or people will think you are stupid, I interpreted their comments as confirmation that I was stupid. When teachers challenged me by telling me I was one of the finalists in some contest, I immediately backed down as I believed I was unworthy to win. I avoided sports which my sister loved so much. When a teacher or boss accused the whole group, I would be the one who looked most guilty even though I wasn't. So I would be punished for someone else's actions. I would get mad that I had been chosen yet again as the recipient of the punishment but accepted it as that was my place. After all I was predestined for Hell so I believed that it didn't matter as I must be a worthless piece of shit.
As soon as I graduated, I escaped. I didn't go home again for years. I felt bad as it meant that I had abandoned my brother. But I couldn't save him as I could barely save myself. Years went by but nothing changed. When my dad became ill the doctor said it was no big deal and he would recover. The doctor was not considering my sister. My dad died. By Michigan law my mother automatically inherited everything. My sister immediately imprisoned my mother who was not allowed to answer the phone, not allowed to answer the door, not allowed to answer her mail. I went to two doctors. two social workers, two lawyers. They all gave me the same answer; Michigan law allows an adult to choose to live in an abusive household. That's a cowardly law. Nobody chooses to be abused. They just don't have the wherewithal to escape. Did six million Jews choose to live in death camps? My only recourse was to go to court and prove that my mother was mentally incompetent. My brother would do nothing. I knew it would be my word alone against my sister and my sister was so good at putting on a false front, I didn't think I would be believed. And I knew it would just crush my mother. I couldn't do it.
My brother was disabled and breathed with the help of an oxygen tank. My sister would light a cigarette, she was the only one who smoked, sit down across from my brother and deliberately blow smoke in his face. But my brother, unlike my sister, had a job. He worked third shift. One night while my brother was at work, mom died "peacefully in her sleep". My sister removed her body and had her illegally cremated before anyone knew she had died. My sister disappeared with ALL my mother's money so my brother was finally free of her tyranny.. He and I sued my sister in civil court just like the Goldman family sued O J Simpson. Then my brother died mid-way through the trial. We received a judgment and she was legally declared a "disappeared person" .but I would have had to pay to find her. I wasn't going to throw good money after bad. So she's free as long as she doesn't return to Michigan. Maybe she's your neighbor? She's not mine.
I have spent my entire life not being believed while I cleaned up my sister's messes. She killed my father. She killed my mother. She killed my brother. I am so terrified that someday she will kill ---- you.
From Heading: Personal Background
From Website: MyGrandRapids.info