I am at a loss for words.

Day one at my grandparent’s place and I am already at a loss for words. My family, sans sister, is horrible to be around. When everyone is there the hierarchy, which is easier to ignore when father is coming home at 7.30 PM (like he usually does), shows; not only itself, but its teeth, its claws, its depths. Mother might bow and buckle, E and I do not want to crouch down and so have to live through the consequences. He won’t admit it, his behaviour and comments though show his real opinion about women in general and about the female parts of his closest family specifically.
It places a certain anxiety of the future inside of me, what if P turns into a monster as well after we’ve been married for a few years? (He won’t, still the sheer possibility is frightening me.)

We are dumb children. The grandparents know what is best and are to have their way. We are not sixteen and nineteen years old and have developed our own views, opinions, choices of lifestyle. No. Grandmother knows best, everything else is nonsense. Nonsense, I say. Because we are dumb children that cannot be trusted in our ideas.

My dear mother is constantly shooting remarks of the anorexic kind in my direction, which annoys both me and my sister very much.

Oma: “Na, sind eure Bäuche voll? Soll ich greifen?“
Mutter: „Bei der Anna wirst du da nichts finden, da ist ohnehin nichts.“

Uhm, she does know the atmosphere at home well, so why try it that sanctimoniously and from behind? Because I am going to tell her if she is doing it that way? Uhm, no-oo. Even if I had a problem it would be none of her business. I wish I had a less stressful relationship with my family.

Hurrah for veganism, though. They are not going to derail me.

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