Essay #1
“No family is perfect. We argue, we fight. We even stop talking to each other at times, but in the end family is family. The love will always be there.” -Unknown
My family is definitely not perfect. The last few years have proven that to be very true. We have, as a family, all had our share of ups and downs. At this exact moment in time, my family is just starting to work on fixing a problem that has been going on for the last eight years. I can only really tell you what my family has told me about this situation. Even though I may not know everything that went on, I still have learned so much from this.
Everything started when I was just seven years old. I was playing with my cousins in the yard, our parents sitting on the porch
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She needed there to be something wrong with me and the way I was raised. She started lying about all sorts of things, like that I was being molested, or how I was always telling her children to swear or do inappropriate things. She had even made it impossible for me to go to school in the town that I lived in. My aunt had told my mother that if she were to put me in that school, she would go to the school board and have them put in my file that I was a sexual predator, and that I wasn’t allowed to be around her children. She was taking everything way too far, and my mother wasn’t going to let any of this …show more content…
They all decided it might be best for them to go talk to my aunt without my mom around. When they did this my aunt decided to cry wolf to my grandparents, saying that they were attacking her. Grandma and grandpa believed what she had said and cut themselves off from our family. My mom kept me from seeing my cousins, and my grandparents didn’t really want anything to do with us. My family was now torn in two, but I was too young to see it. It took me until three years ago to realize something wasn’t right.
I started asking about what was going on when I was twelve years old. At the time my mother was very hesitant to tell me the story. She thought I was too young, and decided to wait one more year before she told me. When the next year rolled around, she called up her sister and her brother so we could have a family discussion. We all sat down in the living room and my mother started the conversation. She could only give me an outline of what happened before she started crying. My uncle went more into detail, with my aunt adding anything that he