My Brother, Wowie

They always say there is some sort of deep psychological reason for everything we do in life but I’ve never been a big believer in that theory. I’m not saying there aren’t psychological reasons for why people do things; the part I don’t buy is that they think that excuses bad behavior. Learned behavior can be unlearned just like any other bad habit. Anyway, I was sitting here thinking about why I am attracted to emotionally unavailable men.

I’m 50 freakin’ years old and I’m just now realizing, A) that I have this sick affliction and B) that there is a psychological reason for it that I didn’t see before. I look back over the men in my life who I had relationships with and most were emotionally unavailable for one reason or another.

My father, my grandfather, my uncles and cousins and my brother; each and every one of them were detached and selfish with affection and praise. I longed for (wow, this cuts deep), a father’s embrace and tender words along the lines of, “How’s my special girl today?” (That stupid parent/teacher/child crap I learned a long time ago finally means something, now.)

It was obvious (and I’m thinking out loud here, live, so nothing’s carved in stone and I’m not writing for publication) I was never going to get the loving acceptance of my father (been tryin’ for all these years though and gawd I didn’t know this was going to be so gut wrenching to talk about here… my dog thinks something is really wrong cause I’m cryin.’).

My grandfather would talk to me about projects he was working on and I’d watch him putter around fixing a lawn mower or building a butter churn out of a glass one gallon jar, some wood and some pipe. Grandpa lived to 103 and the first hug I ever got from him was the last, because by then he was too old to get away from me.

I had a couple of uncles but didn’t really have the opportunity to get close to them or my cousins.

My brother, Wowie (family nick-name), is nine years older than I am. Not a lot of difference there, but it is a lot when you are growing up. I was just far enough behind him in everything that he considered me a pest more than anything.

It wasn’t all bad like this example: Wowie was sent out in the rain, in the dark, on his bike, to run to the store for 10 pounds of potatoes. (My mother would lose her kids over that one today. lol) He’s gone a long time and Mum is getting anxious (pa wanted dinner on the table when he got home and still does at 83). Finally we hear Wowie coming up the porch and I look out the window, he frowns at me and I make a face at him and he punched the window out.

We did have short period of brother/sisterly love, during the death of our mother and during the breakup of a serious relationship he had been involved in. When Mum died I received my first heart-felt embrace from my big brother. But those experiences weren’t enough to build a lasting or close-knit bond. I love my brother and I know he loves me but the relationship lacks depth. We don’t seek out each other’s company. Me because I know I’d be rejected and I can’t take it from him (I’ll explain more about that in a minute); and him because I’m an embarrassment to him.

He’s always had more money than me, always lived in nicer houses and driven nicer cars. That stuff really isn’t all that important to me. I’m glad he has it and I don’t begrudge him a single thing, he and his wife work hard and deserve everything they have. But I’m happy being me, living with a lot less in a very modest home. I enjoy my life most of the time. I’ve developed some skills I’m proud of and have many things I enjoy doing. He should be happy for me too.

For many reasons, my brother pulled away from what was left of our family after our mother died. He had many valid reasons for doing so. But as far as I know, there is no real reason for him to keep up the distance between us. We both do a lot of camping (me less in recent years) but we have never gone together.

One-by-one, every family member pulled away physically and emotionally. I believe this played a HUGE role in the types of relationships I’ve had. I am still trying to love people who push me away or hold me at arm’s length.

When will my embrace be returned in kind? Will I ever feel the exhilaration of approval? Now that I have this information, what do I do with it? I will most certainly be re-evaluating all my relationships against this type of grid.

You see, this is why I don’t like to think too much. It’s messy, it stinks and someone always gets hurt, namely me. This would be a good time for me to go to bed and hopefully not even dream.