Siblings. Not siblings.

Five children, five fathers, one mother, that is the configuration of my family. I am the youngest and the child that got to grow up with both parents throughout my childhood. I am 10+ years younger than the next child, and 16 years younger than the oldest, so I never grew up with my siblings because they lived with one of their fathers. Furthermore, I don't remember the first time that I met my sisters because they were in and out of our lives, lived in another state, and my mother was not on good terms with her ex-husband. These were things I did not understand as a child, and yet I found that I was emotionally abused because of things beyond my control.

I remember the first time that my middle sister came to see us when I was about 4 years old, and she was 16, however, I only remember this because our mother has told me the story so many times. My sister was pregnant and did not want her father to find out, she knew he would not approve, so she wanted to move in with us and stay there. That did not happen, and I don't know why to this day. My mother will not discuss those details and my sister doesn't acknowledge it at all. I know that they fought. I know that my father and mother fought. Likewise, I suppose my father did not want to take on the responsibility for my mother's other children by another man.

Later on, in life, my sisters moved to the state we lived in, and I was told that we saw them often, not often enough for me to recall. Then we moved to another state because my father was looking for work in his occupation, and it was where he wanted to go. This was a drastic and terrifying event in my young life, I was only 10 years old, moving away from my friends and extended family and the only home I had ever known. My sisters were livid as well, I know they fought about it with my mom, and it would be something that came up in arguments throughout the years. Nothing was left in the past in my family.

Once we moved, my parents and I would take trips back to our home state (a 16-hour drive from where we now lived) and visit with my siblings and extended family. I never felt so alone as this time in my life and I enjoyed most of these visits. However, my sisters would constantly tell me how good I had it that I was able to live with our mother all the time. I did not know the reason for their jealousy until years later. Arguments between them and our mother were always behind closed doors, and I was not allowed to know what was said. My mother shielded me from some abuse by my sisters, but they would get their comments in when we were alone or mom could not hear.

On one visit I remember one of my sisters telling me I was spoiled and a brat, it was something she often repeated, and how that I did not appreciate our mother. She was not sympathetic when I told her how controlled my life was with our mother and that I was disciplined. She flat-out refused to believe me. In an attempt to get me to toughen up she punched me in the arm when I was about 14 years old, it hurt, I cried, mom went off, and my relationship with my sisters when further down the tubes.

Things only got worse as I got older, had a child of my own with a man they did not approve of, and never married. I struggled financially after the divorce of my parents and I reached out to my siblings, who would help me with conditions of paying them back. I was not in a position to do these things, but I was desperate and agreed to. That backfired. Of course. I thought I could explain myself, but I was called irresponsible and a liar. I had every intention of keeping my word, but I was not able to do so due to my financial situation. This started the first of many silent treatments I received from my sisters.

I thought I was close to my oldest sister because we were more alike than my middle sister and me, but I discovered that they had a bond between them from growing up in the same household as children, that I would never have with them. Sometimes I could reason with her, and she'd get the other one to back off of me, but more often than not I was criticized by them both. I felt like an outsider, yet they called me family, a sister, and told me that I had obligations to them because of our relations.

I did not want to lose my siblings as someone I could talk to or confide in, but as I continued to struggle I found that they were not people that would help me through the tough times without judgment. Not only that but I was told that I consistently made bad choices and that I was untrustworthy. Even being family did not make them feel an obligation to me, although I was held to that when they wanted or needed something from me. That created such a divide between us that I began to pull away from them as people I could rely on.

Things continued to get worse when I lost custody of my child. I was told I was a bad mother for having a child with the father and not taking their advice to move hundreds of miles away to solve my problems because they believed if I came to them, we would be able to take custody back. They did not understand why I did not want to leave her behind. I got to see her and that was worth sticking around for and important to me. I didn't think that court proceedings to prove the father unfit would be resolved as quickly as they assumed it would. Furthermore, I spoke to other single parents in similar situations and found it was very difficult to prove and that I would likely not win because the father was in a more stable environment than I was.

That choice was one of my worst offenses in the eyes of my sisters and one of them never forgave me. She judged me for new relationships that I got into with other men and for not settling down with one. When I came out as bisexual she told me it was something that everyone my age experimented with and that I would change. It was quite devastating. I was not accepted by them, or my parents. I couldn't even tell my mother because she thought it was sinful. When I got married to a man that was emotionally and mentally abusive to me, it was also something I was judged for. I thought this behavior was normal after all I had been through with my family. I didn't realize how bad it was until things got physical, and I left.

I joined the military some years later and this did not sit well with my family who told me I was abandoning my child and being selfish. All I wanted to do was make a better life for myself and in turn my child's future. I believed if I completed it and used the GI Bill money to go to college that I would be able to get a well-paid job and I would be set. None of this happened. I completed my military service and went to college, but I was not able to finish as the expenses only covered a portion of the costs of a for-profit college. I reached out to my family for help and was rebuffed and ridiculed for being in my 30s and still not responsible. Likewise, I quit with over 200 credit hours and no degree. It's been six years since then, and I have not been able to return. However, I have re-enrolled for this year. Wish me luck?