A New Question

Anonymous

The Girl’s Mother left The Girl’s Father when there were just two young boys—before The Girl existed. She left the alcohol and physical abuse. She actually divorced him, though none of her children were aware of that until 83 years later, when a granddaughter stumbled upon the records online.

The Girl’s Mother built a small home for herself and her sons. Life was good and she was happy. She had a boyfriend, though no one remains to speak of him, and she was happy for the first time in years. She was as kind as the day is long, plus some, and deserved every happiness.

The Girl’s Father had been raised by a harsh and demanding mother, thereby creating a son of similar demeanor. One day post-divorce, The Girl’s Mother opened the door to her ex-husband and his angry mother. The angry woman said, “You will take him back and you will make it work.” Wanting to do right by her sons, The Girl’s Mother allowed The Girl’s Father to move back in. Best guess is that until that day she’d had as long as two years of happiness, free of this alcoholic anchor.

The Girl had been born during one of her father’s many temporary stretches of sobriety, and he loved her from the start. The Girl had given him back his family. Many years later, he told The Girl that on the day she was born, he went to the home of her mother’s boyfriend and told him that she would never be his now—that HE had won. This was the first The Girl had heard of a separation and a boyfriend.

The Girl grows. There are now two older brothers, a younger brother, and a younger sister. The older siblings like to point out her differences—her different-colored hair, her build, her personality. What they don’t know is she already feels different—odd. She doesn’t feel like she belongs. She is her father’s favorite but her mother’s attention isn’t as easily obtained. Years later, when he is a grown up with children of his own, one brother acknowledges that The Girl’s Mother raised her with a higher level of indifference. He tells her that he has doubted her place in the family and always assumed she was adopted. As if she hasn’t felt this disconnect her entire life.

The Girl learned early that being a daughter—especially the quiet and different middle daughter—meant there would be expectations. She began waitressing when she was 12 years old, with most of her earnings going in the bank and the rest going to pay her way and buy her own school clothes. The Girl’s Mother didn’t have such expectations of her other children. Because The Girl had a strong work ethic and a kind heart, she was often called upon to help, and she minded her younger siblings on the days she didn’t have to work. One day, The Girl’s Mother sent The Girl’s often troubled brother to retrieve her from school. He hadn’t made his truck payments and would inevitably lose it. When The Girl was a teen, her mother instructed her to empty her savings and pay off the son’s truck, telling The Girl she would own the truck. However, because he was a son, The Girl’s Mother would not make him keep the bargain. The Girl then had no savings and nothing to show for her kindness. The subject was closed. She was just a daughter.

Even after a lifetime of pleasing only to be held at arm’s length by her own mother, The Girl is still a fixer. She flourishes when she is needed. She has unknowingly carried forward the family legacy of ‘sons over daughters.’ She is always fixing her own son, which makes her feel important—included.

Still striving to connect, The Girl moves her family 1,000 miles to be near her parents. When her mother calls, The Girl comes. The Girl’s children love their sweet grandma, but even as little bubs they feel from her a lack of emotion or possibly even interest. A disconnect exists between The Girl’s Mother and The Girl’s children, but not between The Girl’s Mother and her son’s children who live nearby. The Girl’s children are, after all, just the children of the middle daughter.

The Girl stumbles through her journey. She wonders, “Where do I fit?” She doesn’t feel she belongs. She is sad. The feeling of not being enough, of being a square peg in a round hole, is still there all these years later. An emptiness permeates her, and life is a daily struggle. The Girl’s son continues on his path of self-destruction and selfishness. The Girl uses her father’s alcoholism to excuse her son’s behaviors. There’s always an explanation for his poor choices. The Girl’s Mother loves her grandkids but, quite obviously, the son’s children mean more to her than the daughter’s.

The Girl’s Daughter seeks counsel during a rough patch in her marriage. The Girl has previously advised her separated son to return to his wife and stay together for the children. Yet she advises her daughter to leave her husband while she’s young enough to meet another and, possibly, have a son. The ultimate prize.

Life continues, and The Girl’s expectations and hopes have dimmed. The Girl’s daughter is grateful to have had daughters and, gradually, also thankful that she won’t blindly perpetuate the cycle of superiority of sons. Not having a son also means her daughters won’t suffer at the hands of a brother as she did, struggling from age 5 to 16 to keep her brother way from her—from trying to touch her and expose himself to her. He was physically violent, too, throwing things at her and hitting her. The paint on the inside of her bedroom door was splintered and falling off from him banging on it so hard trying to get in. She was a quiet, religious girl, so it was especially traumatizing. The feeling of filth he bestowed on her during her childhood that she pushed down has left her scarred. Yet, when she told her mother this, her response was, “It happens.” The accused is, after all, her son. Did she feel that prioritizing the son would make her own mother proud? What other reason could there be for sweeping away such a confession?

The Girl’s Husband gets sick, and there are hospital stays and new worries, yet her indifference to her spouse of 58 years continues. It becomes obvious that the indifference in which the girl was raised has followed her into her own marriage.

In an attempt to find common ground, The Girl’s Daughter gives her parents DNA kits. She hopes that between tests and surgeries, they will explore their roots.

The Girl has lived a lifetime of distancing and an inability to truly connect to anyone but her son. She believes it to be based on the fact that she is just a daughter. She’s carrying on the mistakes of the past, handed down from her mother. Today, the effects ripple through the next couple generations: indifference in marriages, the sons being given privileges, the inability to form friendships.

A year on, a widowed woman sharing her home with her overly enabled son and daughter-in-law, The Girl still asks the question “Where do I fit?” This feeling of unmooring, and the question of being, have haunted The Girl from the beginning.

The Girl returns to her DNA test for answers, and the quest to discover the identity of her mother’s unknown boyfriend changes from a simple historical query to a genealogical necessity.

The Girl realizes that her deep-rooted question—where does she belong?—has morphed into a new but equally perplexing one: Was the indifference shown to her as a child rooted in the difference in gender? Or a difference in paternity?

The next generation, The Girl’s Daughter, commits to finding the answers. She spends hours, days, weeks, and years researching. She now knows that The Girl’s Father has no branch in The Girl’s family tree but The Girl’s Mother’s unnamed boyfriend from years past does. There are new ethnicities to study, new family stories to learn, new relatives to meet. The Girl’s Father will always be The Girl’s “dad,” but the unknown man is actually her father.

BEFORE YOU GO…

Look on our home page for more articles and essays about NPEs, adoptees, and genetic genealogy.

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