The Painful Truth

My mother, my sister and I visited my Filipino aunt and cousins – all women - in San Diego, CA. I haven’t seen this part of my family in over 30 years and have been cheerfully anticipating our visit.  I envisioned warm moments filled with ethnic food and laughter.  Together we would bask in the happiness and successes that all we cousins have all accomplished in our personal and professional lives.  We would reflect upon our similarities and differences as women and embrace each other’s lives with both fascination and respect.  

It turns out that I come from a long line of beautiful women.  This is certainly a blessing to them and a curse to me.  I know this because my aunt and my mother reign it over me as if I am the unfortunate, deformed child who has a cleft lip.  I wish I could exchange her for a woman who is more pleasant to look at, my aunt seems to imply.  She’s not the beautiful one, but at least I have another; look in the direction of her sister my mother telepathically responds.

I know this because their lack of tact allows them to unapologetically tell me the fact that I’m not thin, ergo I’m unattractive.  Evidently, when English is your second language, you can say whatever your want.  These comments come in the form of You should eat more fruits and vegetables because it’s not so fatty, to That would be good exercise for you or You must wear a large, right?

Oh, Leana, your sister is so thin and sexy.

They actually discussed the notion that it might be better if they didn’t say such things while I’m in the room however my sister, already having received the prerequisite endorsement from my aunt, sadly had to inform them that it’s not okay to acknowledge such things at all.  I know, because I was sitting at the table with them and listened to the entire exchange.  It took all of the strength I could muster to choke back the tears long enough to make it to the other room before I could no longer control their release.

I am a little surprised, however, that they haven’t linked the fact that I am still single to the fact that I’m so hideous.  So maybe I’m overreacting as they haven’t necessarily touched on the fact that I’m completely useless, but there’s no mention as to what they actually like about me either.  It’s almost like they don’t know what to say to me because I AM the elephant in the room.  Not much interest is given to me regarding my career, my interests nor my life.  Nobody seems to be grateful that I’m alive at all, given the emergency surgery I had four years ago which resulted in complications that almost killed me.

Instead, the focus is on my weight and I am so thoroughly over with it.  While I wished to avoid any mad drama, I have made clear how unacceptable their comments are.  I’m quite certain that my maternal relations suffer from a mild form of turrets syndrome that has permanently damaged their verbal filter. Rather than listen, they think aloud rather than examining the necessity of their words.  Their remarks, while designed to be helpful, slash at my heart like repeated wounds to my soul.

I have therefore revised my picture of this particular family reunion to a more realistic one – a visit with a relative with whom I do not share the loving closeness one always hopes for in long lost relatives.  An interesting development to my visit is reconnecting with three of my cousins and meeting their wonderful husbands, where I found the kindred spirit that I had hoped to find but in a different context, for we have all fallen prey to such negatively charged comments.  Rather than sharing our experiences with disdain, we were somehow able to laugh our way through it, which somehow took away the feeling of isolation as well as helped to rally the strength for the next surprise attack.  I definitely look forward to our next encounter.

As for my aunt, she acknowledges that she is a lot to take, but her intentions and her heart are in the right place.  Despite her loud and overbearing personality, she loves me very much and, with the distance, I have decided that I love her too.