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An Open Letter to my Extended Family

Dear Extended Family,

I got your voice mail, and you’ll be pleased to know that I feel exactly the same way. For those of you that haven’t heard it, I’ll transcribe Sh**** lovely message:

“Ellis, if you hear me this is Sh* * *. If you have any balls pick up your phone. [pause] Then I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and think that you can’t hear this. and let me tell you my voice is shaking because I’m angry. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are to bring those innocent children into anything and call them “hellspawn.” YOU are sick and fucking twisted that you would bring children into this and call my niece and nephew and your sister’s beautiful children ‘hellspawn’ If you have any sense of decency you will get on the computer and remove that from Facebook immediately. … and in the meantime, no one here cares to ever step into a room with you again, EVER. I really think that you need to call your family and apologize. That is all I have to say to you. FUCK YOU.”

Let’s see, I spent two hours listening to your various sprog crying and whining, complaining about everything from the food to the lack of toys. I heard not a single word from them that indicates that they had even been told that basic manners exist. They behaved disruptively, instead of finding something quiet to do, or better - being instructed to do something quiet by parents who weren’t half-assing their way around raising children. I don’t tolerate that shit from my pets, why would I tolerate from alleged humans?

I would like you to think about something for a moment. What I’d like you to think about is this: Why it was that every year around the holidays, I would go up to my room, or another space apart from you, and do something that didn’t involve being near you.

Don’t think, you might injure yourselves. I’ll tell you why:

Although it has been occasionally amusing to watch you all sniping at each other and backstabbing each other over the years, it’s something that, frankly, I can live more happily without, since I know full well that I’ve been your black sheep and scapegoat for most of my life. The disapproval and derision that radiates from you lot convinced me years ago that I’m the whet-stone you sharpen your knives on for each other.

You are at best uninteresting, tedious and completely lacking in charm or even basic utility. You are categorically and demonstrably incapable of intelligent conversation, and confine yourselves merely to gossip and sports, neither of which are useful or interesting to me. You are, in fact, unlikable and unlovely examples of the species.

I come to the family holidays for the sake of my parents and the debt that I owe them. I do not come to see you, or be near your noisy, ill-mannered children. It’s a matter of duty, and not a pleasure to be with you, feigning interest in your meaningless prattle and your babbling about what your little shits have done lately.

But since you’ve chosen to bother me at home on my voice mail, let me be absolutely clear: I want nothing to do with you, and haven’t for 15 years. Don’t write, don’t call, don’t shit in my inbox.

Here’s a few personal Fuck-yous

A- Do you still like to beat up and rape boys? Is that bowel trouble your son has really colitis or is it induced by constant fear of you coming into his room at night? Is that how the bladder control issues started for you, with your daddy?

It sickens me to have to breathe the same air as you, let alone share a holiday table, and yet I’ve been doing it for years. It would be relief to never see you again.

Aunt K: I hope you enjoy knowing that your son is a monster. In retrospect, being beaten and raped by him helped make me who I am today. So, as for your lack of approval for my life, not only does it not matter to me, but let me add that I hold you responsible for failing to scrape that piece of shit son from your womb before he started hurting people.

S-: Even though they take pokes at you, for being you, they aren’t nearly as horrified as when I came out bisexual. Keep in mind who it was that went through that before you with this family. What, you didn’t know? I’m not surprised. It was just another shame brought down by the whipping boy. But look how far they’ve come. They only mock you behind your back.

Sister- Despite the fact that you are one of the most judgmental, snarky and mean people I’ve ever known, I held out hope for you for years that you might do something useful with your life. I was pleased that you got your Master’s Degree, and sorely disappointed when you decided to become a brood-mare. I feel bad for your husband, having to spend every day with that. Or perhaps you simply reserve your spleen and bile for me.

I want you all to know that one of the primary reasons that I chose not to breed was that I didn’t want to take a chance that I would pass on whatever neuroses I acquired being around you people. If you think I’m sick and twisted, look at yourselves, and ask where that came from. And then ask what fucked up shit your passing on to your children. Monsters breed monsters, and you Sheas are a legacy of fucked up, from the one who use to beat the shit out of my and make me suck his cock to the rest of you who did nothing about it.

I’ve wasted enough time on you.

Fuck you, too,