I hate labels. I hate that from the time you are but a littl’un, you have already been identified as “the pretty one” or “the smart one” or “the sensitive one” or “the troublemaker.” Entire unique personalities simplified to a generic adjective.
I don’t recall who coined the term, but at some point in my youth, I was dubbed “the me child.” As in, “As long as Stacey is happy, nothing else matters.” I have spent many years sharing, giving, donating, trying to find any possible way to put others first and scrub away my old label. Still I feel that it remains, like a stain or a huge scarlet letter branding me with shame.
If you’ve been following my blog for awhile, you may remember that I got engaged in December 2008, with my wedding planned for this March. Within that space of time, a close family member also got engaged. And then married. And then separated. Now my wedding is fast approaching . . . just a bit before her divorce hearing.
This series of events has put me in an awkward position. When she got engaged, I tried to shift much of my focus to her and her happiness. After all, her wedding would be five months before mine. Why be selfish? Why make her share the spotlight? There would still be plenty of time to be excited about my big day. So the family’s attention was put all on her wedding.
Then the wedding happened and she was not happy with how it turned out. So for several weeks more, everything still was all about her wedding.
Then her marriage went to hell and we rallied to help her move out. I drove her around, held her hand, rubbed her back, even attended a therapy session with her to get her on her feet again. For awhile now the family’s attention has been on her divorce and doing all we can to help her through it.
But do you know what isn’t helping her through it? My wedding.
In fact, my wedding has been so difficult to cope with that she actually threw several screaming tantrums during my bridal shower when an aunt made an unkind comment about her “failed marriage.” And while I know this has been exceptionally hard for her, I was angry.
I’m upset that my shower will be remembered for her yelling obscenities at other family members. I’m upset that the family collectively worries she won’t be able to get through my reception without creating a scene. I’m upset that my wedding has become an event we’re all dreading. I’m upset that I feel like I’m not allowed to be excited or happy because it hurts her. I’m upset that I have to overlook her behavior, no matter how disruptive or childish, because she’s in pain. I’m upset that thanks to shitty timing, my special moments are getting ruined because things didn’t work out for her.
I know it’s not her fault, but I feel like I’ve been robbed of much of the joy of getting married. My wedding is in two weeks and I don’t even want to think about it. And that fact makes me sad.
When I confessed this, I was told repeatedly, “Well, you have to understand how hard this is for her. We have to do all that we can to support her right now.” And I try. I really do try. But somewhere, deep down, there is that ugly angry feeling that this situation is not fair to me.
She recently told me I feel this way because I’m “a self-centered bitch.”
And maybe I am. But I didn’t choose to feel these emotions. And I don’t think it’s wrong that I wanted this one day for myself.
The ugly honest truth is that I resent that there is always some event or some drama with her and that this time my wedding is going to be a casualty of her latest crisis. And while I know my heart is supposed to be bleeding for her unfortunate circumstances, I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself as well. And that, my friends, is exactly what makes me “the me child.”
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