As evident from my previous post, I am trying this new thing of actually using my blog like a blog.  E.g., posting things that are just life updates or inconclusive thoughts, and hoping that somehow they might actually serve some kind of purpose.

This one’s about rifts politely ripping open between family members.



You have given me respect, and I thank you for that.  Admire you for that.  Love you for that.

But you have given me grudging respect.  Last resort well wishes.  Suspicion that you make no effort to hide from your face; perhaps paint on for added effect.

You say you will not fight my going, but openly wish that a natural disaster will stop me.

I can’t decide whether I should be grateful to you, angry with you, or disappointed in you.  I am all three, but they live together like unhappy dinner guests, glaring at each other from across the table, each one trying to make the other two leave so they can have the table to themself.

I am trying to reconcile how you can look so sickened, speak so horribly, and say it’s all because you care.  But I know it’s true.

I am trying to understand that things are not always black, or white, or grey, but sometimes a combination of all three.

I have your respect, but not your blessing.  Not your trust.

And you underestimate how much I wish I did.



Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash


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I'm Hannah. I'm 21, and chaotically creative. You can usually find me frustratedly hunched over some new craft I’m attempting, struggling to learn a new song on the ukulele, writing, drawing, singing, frowning or smiling at my camera depending on the success of my latest photo or video attempt, or sleeping.

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