No speak

4 days ago
1 min read

I was just listening to Lala Kent on a podcast with Danielle Fishell talking about how she no longer speaks to her dad’s side of the family, and my first thought was that’s crazy.

But then it hit me. I don’t either. And I haven’t for over 4 years now. And although so of them were my own choosing…they all revolve around my Dad.

I’m reminded of something my Aunt Lee (whom I also don’t speak to ) told me a long time ago. She tried to explain why my father is the way he is. It’s because their mother raised her five kids to believe she was the only person they were allowed to love. Not even each other. Love wasn’t unconditional. It was something you had to earn. Something that could be taken away if you didn’t fall in line. And when you grow up like that, it doesn’t just disappear. It follows you. It shapes how you connect, how you trust, and how you love. So in a way, they are all still living out something that started long before me. Something they never really faced.

It’s strange how something that once felt so normal slowly becomes your reality without you even fully processing it. And when you finally do, there’s a sadness there you didn’t quite expect. And maybe that’s the saddest part. How pain just keeps repeating itself until someone decides to break the cycle. But sadly it won’t be me.