Empty space…

Misery loves repetition.

11 pages, 4300 words. 3 friends. Several hours…  Once again… the topic that can rile me up more than anything… My parents family.

I am a parvenu- a “newcomer” a woman that can and does invent my own narrative.

My Griffin family? My father was the 3rd child but his 2 sisters were both childless. I have no cousins on my fathers side.

My father only had me.

My mother’s side? My mother is one of 8 children. I have an abundance of cousins…

None of which I am close to.

I cannot keep doing this. There’s genuinely nothing to say. My mother’s family shut the door on me years ago. Decades even.

My aunts and uncles abdicated responsibility for me. “it takes a village?”

They made either a conscious or unconscious choice to not care for me.

And every single time I am reminded of it, the thought brings a hole in my heart, an emptiness that is hard to explain, a deadness which is hard to come out of. It cannot be counteracted with joy, I physically have to work it out of my system.

And today I’m sick so that’s not happening…

The 2005-2025 period of my life was laughable in how bad it was. That was 20 years of my life. Far more than half.

I am still living with the damage. That much is evident. I don’t know if I have recovered after my fathers passing. But I sure as hell haven’t recovered from the abuse, torture and neglect shown to me during that period.

To all those who think one should just “get over it” find your seats in hell.

But ultimately the reason I write today isn’t the same reason I wrote 7 hours ago.

I will not re-hash the past.

I can only narrate the present, and how I feel. And I feel crap.

All they’ve done is bring hurt and pain.

I don’t know if I’ll tell my future husband about my mother’s side of the family.

Telling a spouse that you disowned BOTH sides of your family makes you the toxic one.

But my dad’s side consists mainly of criminals. And my late grandmother.

My mum’s side… just because you don’t belong in jail doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt me.

I often think of how to solve this situation.

I refuse, reject and deny any form of additional labour.

Which makes it difficult.

Because if I truly want a relationship with them, I would put in the work.

But I don’t. I don’t want a relationship with them. I don’t want to be close to them.

1.     Because they disappointed me, and they don’t get to do that again.

2.     Because I don’t want to be asked for anything. I consider it the height of rudeness to ask me for anything, because you didn’t look after me. My cousin once asked me for a £3,200 laptop… as I was purchasing a £200 laptop for myself (which I now write on)

3.     Because I don’t think they can help. There’s a difference between an “idealised” version of my mothers family (read sisters I haven’t got the faith of a mustard seed in my uncles) and what they actually are. Deeply embedded in the patriarchy and from the same culture as my mum who would sacrifice me willingly. And they’ve shown it. Because they did sacrifice me willingly. And not one seconds thought.

I also regret being gracious in my moment of victory. (when my mother’s family finally deigned to call me) I shouldn’t have picked up the phone to half ass care. I thought it would be the start of something… It was a compliance call. Apparently, you are only sad about your fathers passing once. So. it is only necessary to call once. Actual care would be making sure your niece was actually okay. But that didn’t happen. I check in more regularly with people for sickness than my entire family did for the death of my father.

So we move on. My inner child sometimes pokes through and I acknowledge her and indulge her. Wanting to take my aunt Beatrice to Paris? Inner child. Giving money to my grandmother? Inner child. Sending money to my aunt Waltina for her birthday? Inner child.

There’s nothing wrong with doing that. I crave connection from the people that wounded me. But it is important that I acknowledge that they don’t love me. Not in the way I was taught to love them.

Because life was hard growing up and opportunities were scarce, we went all in with the crazy intensity that can only come from having a Leo father and an Aquarius mother. They are intense, and involved and its all emotion when it comes to the family and words like “education” and “opportunity” get slapped around like blackmail.

No time to think, no time to pause. No time to examine the persons track record as a measure for success.

No time to talk about it as a “loan” not a gift.

No time, no time, no time… to do anything but immediate aid.

Dad’s sister crying down the phone because her son had stollen an motorbike and gotten himself arrested, about to be deported. My aunt Beatrice appealing to my mum for Oreh for tens of thousands… the same logic of “its your niece, your nephew” a mirror was never turned around for me.

“oh they’d do the same for you if there was an opportunity”

Except there were opportunities, and the same wasn’t done for me.

I digress.

The pain and the bitterness is an ocean, you can’t see the bottom, nor can land be viewed on the horizon.

“Forgive us” they cry.

No.

Leave me alone. You have done nothing but cause harm.

To learn from the Queen Cleopatra, one does not nestle a snake in one’s bosom.

What do I want now?

I’m 34. All my relationships need to be a bit more intentional. I can’t go hazing around the place.

Do I want family to dance at my wedding?

Maybe once. I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, if it goes good it would be really good. It would heal a part of my soul.

But if it were to be bad, it would be really bad. And they have a track record for bad.

Also I know my mum won’t enforce my dignity. If they do something stupid or disrespectful. She’ll defend them and not see me.

Do I want family going forward?

One has to wonder about the utility of relationships going forward. There needs to be more than just the passing of time, and in the 4 years since my fathers passing, I have nothing to say. With my aunts. And yes this entire piece is about my aunts… nothing.

I once tried reaching out to my aunt Beatrice.

Her middle name is Lavina,

She is named after a Roman princess, the great grandmother x10 of Romulus and Remus. A rare woman to be mentioned in the annals of Livy without her being brutalised. I mentioned to my aunt that I’d read about her name and the deadpan silence… it hurt because I really tried to make myself relatable, I know I have niche interests but I was trying to be relevant. Being ignored, when I’d already had others make fun of my interests (my mother and her daughter) made me feel like a freak and had me calling Samaritan’s on my birthday because people couldn’t accept me for who I am. When I was trying to do something for myself that wasn’t wrapped in pain.

So what now?  Now we decide, because I can only be rejected so many times. But also, when they said “oh reach out to your aunts, what’s the worst that could happen?” Crying down the phone to Samaritan’s on your birthday is the worst that could happen.

“you’re so sensitive,” Yeah, you made me that way.

Stop trying to be clever and start trying to be kind.

As I have said before, my mother’s family aren’t bad people. They’re just bad people to me. They neglected me… but they went over and above for people directly under their noses.

I have nothing to say.

I can’t imagine what the person who isn’t in pain would do. Would she be magnanimous? Like she was raised to? Would she seek revenge? No idea.

So I don’t try and be her. I just try and work out what I want long term.

I know damn well I’m never setting foot in my mothers country again.

So the benefit of aunts and uncles is limited.

I wouldn’t show a future husband my parents country…

1.     Because Sierra Leone is a hellscape of their own making.

2.     Because if my parents family disgrace me like they disgraced themselves when I went in 2023 it would be time for a vendetta. And I don’t think they appreciate the stakes, things have to be absolutely perfect and I don’t think they’re willing to do the work to make it  the levels of perfect that would be necessary to just to keep me from life changing anger, not even to make me happy. 100% attendance, ontime, and on point. There is no world where they do that. They couldn’t organise a trip to the beach from Hamilton… so yeah… I know my expectations are high, but so are my pain levels and I don’t think it fair to make it their problem, because they feel they’ve apologised and that absolves them of 34 years of neglect.

And this goes double for my kids.

I don’t want them getting used to that level of love.

I don’t want them easily emotionally manipulated. Or told that like, and love are the same thing.

Anyway, as the last 4 pages have proven.

Nothing irritates me like my mother’s side of the family… except my father’s side.

So I continue to navigate the empty space they put me in.

Grace and Courage.

Annetta Mother Smith.