"they know...."

After my parents opened up to my mom's younger brother, his wife, her sister, and my dad's brother (who's married to the sister - it's complicated, I know! We're a big family, so bear with me...did you get that? okay...), the uncle started noticing that people were treating him differently.

So, this is the version of the story that I've been told.

One day, he went to my mom's brother's in-laws and asked them why they've been acting strange around him.  They confessed that they were told about what happened with me.  He proceeded to then tell them that he figured that was the case, and told him his side of the story.

He was trying to work things through.  He was going to therapy.  He was planning to tell his wife, my aunt.

As far as I know, they told him that they had to be really careful around him.

But as is the Catholic way, forgive and forget.  To this day, they still interact with him.  They still leave kids in his presence.  They're still hoping praying wishing that he has fixed himself.

Thank Goodness for My Parents

It was in college. Perhaps sometime during my senior year.

I had participated in Take Back the Night for all the previous years in school, and it really helped me build up the courage to tell my parents.  If I was able to speak about my experience to hundreds of strangers, I should be able to talk to my own parents, right?  Well...it took me a long time.

I wanted to participate in Take Back the Night one last time with an update about my progress...not for the listeners...but for me...

I thought a lot about the implications.  What does this mean to my family?  How will my parents react?  What will happen to my younger cousins, the sons of the uncle?

I had no idea.

There is no perfect situation.  I just had to build up the courage, and just start the sentence.

I told my parents while my dad was driving.  They were visiting me in Northern California, and we just dropped off my then-boyfriend back at his dorm.  I was going to stay the night with them at a hotel in Oakland or San Francisco...I don't remember where it was exactly.

At first I thought, perhaps I should wait until we're not driving?  I don't want my dad to swerve in anger.  But, when I finally let it all out, I think they were in a state of shock.

I don't remember much about the conversation.  My parents had a lot of questions.  At some point at the hotel, my dad expressed how angry he was.  They suggested that I speak with a counselor at school.  But, more than anything, I think they needed to really think about the whole situation....similar to the things I had to think about. 

What does this mean to the family?  Have others in our family been affected as well?  What will happen to my younger cousins, the sons of the uncle?

But, for me, I was glad to have that burden of carrying it around off my chest.  My parents were now able to share in my emotions and support me.

Though...they also needed support of their own.
My dad sought it out among his co-workers - nurses, social workers, etc.
My mom....well...I'm not sure...I know she relies on my dad's support.

It felt great to be open with them. 

But this was the just beginning of opening up to the family.