<Holiday gatherings, from Val’s perspective continued>
Frankie’s extended family was traveling across the world for Christmas, so that meant no big Christmas celebration at the Young household. Which was good news for me, because it means I could bring Frankie along with me to my family’s annual Christmas party. Now that my family knows what Frankie looks like, well, I figured there was no harm in bringing them along. Obviously, word had gone around about Frankie’s looks and what kind of person they are. Might as well make the most of it and have some backup for what is going to be a very long night.
Right now, we’re in Frankie’s car. I got ready at their house early this morning, so I could be plausibly late to the Christmas party later. We’ve been sitting in the car for 20 minutes. In silence. I don’t want to get out of the car, and Frankie isn’t making me. I look over. Frankie is scrolling. I look at my grandparents’ house. Christmas lights in all colors flash so bright and violently that I’m really hoping no one with epilepsy has driven past.
My phone buzzes in my lap. It’s my Mom. So I have to answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, shouldn’t you have made it here by now?”
“Uh…” Should I say there was a bad accident on the way? Wait a minute, she has my location. I look back over to the house. I can see the blinds in the living room window are open, and that Mom is staring at me with a less-than-happy expression. “Val. Get in here. Now.”
“….Yes, Mom.” Moments later, I’m at the door with Frankie. I knock loudly.
My grandmother opens the door. “Val!” She lights up. “I was starting to wonder if you decided to ditch us for the year.” She pulls me into a hug.
I smile, sort of, and hug her back.
Then she greets Frankie, “Hello, you must be Val’s friend. Nice to meet you.”
The word friend rubs me the wrong way, but Frankie just smiles. “Hello… Ms…?”
“Maddie.”
“Ms. Maddie. Thanks for sharing your home with me.”
My grandmother smiles a little wider now. I’m jealous of Frankie’s people skills.
The two of them have a little more back and forth before we go inside. Because I’m late, and because I brought someone with me, I become swamped with conversation. So does Frankie, but Frankie smiles and handshakes and amicably answers questions.
I, on the other hand, nervously stumble through every greeting.
“So that’s the sort of person you like,” one of my aunts says.
It’s only one statement, but it’s distressing. What am I supposed to say to that? I look over to Frankie. Frankie is chatting with my Uncle. I sigh. “What do you mean?”
“Well- they seem a little out there.”
What does that mean? Gosh. I wish people just said what they meant, but I feel like hearing what my aunt was really getting at would only be upsetting. So I quelled my curiosity and let the matter drop.
Eventually, Frankie and I were able to end the various conversations- well, more like Q&A sessions- and go to a nice little corner of the living room. Remy waves at us from another corner. Frankie and I wave back. Remy returns to his iPad.
We’re actually left alone for a while. Frankie and I sit amongst a buzz of background conversations. It’s comfortable, but I can’t fully enjoy it. I’ve already been thrown off-balance by everything that’s happened. My leg bounces, and I’m suddenly very interested in examining the pattern of the rug in the middle of the room.
“Val?” Frankie finally breaks our shared silence.
I nod an affirmation.
“What’s bothering you?”
I take a moment to think it over. It’s simple, but not at the same time. “I don’t know how to deal with my family.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes their questions and comments make me uncomfortable. I always feel like I’m being judged, and there’s not much I can do because I want to be respectful. Also, I don’t like touching, but I think they’d definitely freak out if I told them I didn’t want to give hugs and such….”
Frankie takes it all in. “Well, have you told them this?”
“No. Because of the aforementioned judging thing… also, I don’t want them to think I’m rude or anything. I also think… they’d overreact.”
“I… understand where you’re coming from, I think. But if you don’t tell them, they won’t ever know how they’re making you feel.”
I shift in my seat. “I guess…”
“Being worried about their reaction makes sense, I mean, it’s scary to be judged by people whose opinions you care about, but if they judge you negatively for telling them how they make you feel, then they kinda don’t care about your feelings, which means you might have to take their words with a grain of salt.” Frankie pauses. “And anyway- you can’t control what they do, but you can control what you do- so, you can make the most of it, and start a conversation about how you feel, I mean.”
“That sounds terrifying.”
Frankie laughs. “It’s not like they’re gonna bite your head off or anything. You should talk to them like an adult so they start seeing you like an adult.”
I look at Frankie. “Well…”
At that same moment, one of my aunts approaches us, ending that conversation. “Val! Have you decided on a major yet?”
“Uh….” I look over at Frankie, who knows my intended major. Frankie offers no help here.
“N-not really.”
She turns to Frankie. “Can you believe this kid?” She’s joking, I think, but it stings. “What are you going to study, Frankie?”
“Education. I’m still deciding what, though. I’m considering some sort of art discipline, but maybe I’ll become an English teacher.”
I could almost see her thoughts as she had them. Being a teacher isn’t lucrative, but it’s important, so. An art teacher, though. Not important. English, well, that’s a little better. She was thinking all these as facts, when really they were just her opinions. “I see. Do you really think it’s going to be worth it, though, being a teacher in this day in age? Especially an art teacher?”
Frankie shrugs. “I happen to think teaching kids and art are two very important things, so to me, yes, it’s worth it. Also, I don’t think it’s fair to treat Val like that.”
She stands up a bit straighter. “Like what? What did I treat them like?”
“You said, ‘Can you believe this kid?’, like Val is too naive to make good judgments. That might have hurt Val’s feelings.”
I want to hop in and say something. I mean, it did hurt my feelings, but I wasn’t about to say anything. Frankie nudges me. Oh. Maybe I should say something, then. I force the words out, “It did. It did hurt my feelings.” I say it quietly, then sit in dread waiting for her to respond.
“I was only teasing, Val…. sorry.” She looks annoyed, but at least she apologized.
The dread vanishes; it’s not the most ideal outcome, but it’s better than I was expecting. Emboldened, I confess my real goal. “I did decide on what I want to do, actually. I just never said cause I didn’t think you’d like it. I want to study visual art.”
My aunt was definitely not impressed. “I see.”
I could tell she would gossip about it later. But that was… out of my control. What was in my control, though, was what I decided to do in response to that. For the sake of my peace of mind, I’ll just ignore it, unless someone has something helpful to say. When I thought about it all like that, the situation became much more manageable.
The next ordeal was later in the night, after dinner. My cousin is trying to rope me into a debate. She hooks an arm around my neck and pulls me down to her height. All the while, yelling something at my other cousin.
“Hey- cut it out,” I say. I say it louder than I’m used to. I want to make sure she hears me.
“Cut what out?”
“Let go of me.”
She gives me a weird look, but releases me, and then keeps on arguing, saying that Sabrina Carpenter should perform at the next Super Bowl.
I get hounded for an answer, of course, and I say it would be nice if there were a performer from some other part of the world. That idea is shot down right away, and actually, they get really mad at me for it. I end up pivoting the conversation by saying, “Um, well, speaking of music, aren’t the Grammys coming up in a few months?” That does the trick. All the cousins join in, and even Frankie joins in.
I sort of wonder if it’s been this easy the whole time. Just say what you want, whether you’re going to like the outcome or not. When I say, ‘I don’t like people commenting on my appearance’ to my Mother, and she says something to the effect of ‘I mean well, so don’t get sensitive about it’ (that one I really don’t like), then it turns into a tense conversation. I can’t just shake it off this time. Maybe that’s just how it goes. Maybe it means this conversation isn’t supposed to be easy. Usually, I would just start feeling worse because I really want her to understand how much that sort of thing hurts me, and because it feels like she just refuses to get it. But maybe it would actually feel better because at least I have made it known how I feel. Hopefully, it turns into a deeper conversation later. At least it’s on the table now.
Overall, though, the night doesn’t end in a complete disaster. I feel sort of empowered, actually. I felt like I was beginning to hold my own throughout the night. Of course, it helped that Frankie was with me and gave such great advice. A little after Christmas, I’m even able to put in the family group chat that, for future reference, I don’t like being touched without being asked, and that maybe the family should consider not commenting on one another’s appearance. When I really thought about that second thing, I realized there were many things the family commented on in that regard that would make someone uncomfortable. From hair loss to weight to acne, those “little observations” could make someone feel terrible. But everyone avoided saying how it made them feel, for fear of being seen as sensitive. This, this is good, the communication is good, and I hope it brings some good changes in the way the family communicates.
WRITTEN BY: Kris Sanders, Empowerteen Creative Writer Intern
Check out the start of this story in the previous edition, “Family Time: Part 1”!
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