Paint Party Friday Bullied in Silence!

I wish these images were clearer. My attempt at illustrating the story!

I always think of my cousin (Mustard) on her birthday Oct 6th, but not once have I had the gumption to pick up the phone and call her. We grew up together, yet the only time we’ve connected in the last fifteen years is at funerals and my brothers wedding. It's  a nostalgic encounter, yet somewhere along the line, a breech of trust probably caused a  detachment. Thirty five minutes apart, and very opposite dispositions keep us disconnected.

As a child I often felt bullied by her manipulations. Seems we’ve both lacked desire for an adult relationship, probably born of jealousy as children. Nineteen months apart in age she was always a challenging child.

I recall one incident as a preschoolers. Mustard spent the night, awoke early, rummaged through my parents medicine cabinet and slathered my whole head of thick chestnut hair with gooey cream deodorant called “Tussy’s”. Shuffled me outside at six thirty in the morning where we proceeded to peddle our trikes on the driveway. A concerned neighbor called mom in a panic after spying a three year old riding her bike with white cream pasted to her head. Years later we laughed at Mustards antics, yet wondered, would we have laughed had it been “Veet “ hair remover on my head instead!

 One afternoon we were sent to play in the yard while mom washed the floors on hands and knees. My cousin was forewarned not to touch the hose.  Mustard seemed to hear everything in opposites,  proceeding to place the hose inside a window, flooding the freshly washed floors and rugs. Mom loathed babysitting her namesake, fearing what her  mischievous demeanor might conjure up next!  I’m not sure the two sisters, (my mom and aunt), ever truly understood the emotional havoc she was capable of. Constantly making promises then lying and reneging. She was a sneaky little girl and I often wonder what made such a young person so devious.

I've edited the saturation on this to look more vintage....

At times dad would intervene, requesting the child who cut the chocolate bar in half should let the other have first choice. He also watched as she hogged beach toys while others stood patiently by.  He demanded she share, and resented how she treated other children with such disrespect.

One year we both received hand crafted doll cribs for Christmas. The following summer Mustard took my crib outside, flipped it over, and proceeded to jump off it, into our three foot pool. Over and over, taking more turns than necessary until Mom caught her and demanded she desist. Just one more time,  but on the second turn, after mom firmly commanded her to stop, she crashed through the middle of the crib, shattering the base. Unrepairable, I was without a doll crib. Meanwhile hers sat perfectly nestled in her room, housing her dolls, eventually being passed on to her daughter. The right thing to do would have been to make her relinquish hers! No one did!

I had one Barbie and a few hand knit outfits for it. She had three Barbie’s, Skipper, Ken, and every accessory imaginable, with tons of clothes. Would she share? Never!

I wish I'd tried to put  humor into these little illustrations!

We’d each get a dime to place in the collection plate at church, I’d put mine in, she’d keep hers, and take some out of the plate as well. She’d eat two burgers, I’d eat one. She’d make me requisition another, so she could have a third. Of course there was some great bribe involved to coerce  me, she never followed through on her word!

Older and meaner, she manipulated me constantly, her personal prisoner; I had no words to explain what was happening to me. After years of constant abuse, tired of broken promises, one evening in the throws of spending the night, I called my parents and asked them to retrieve me. I was about eight, everyone was furious that I’d inconvenienced them. I couldn’t articulate my feelings, or what had transpired. I just knew I was sick of it.

Do you prefer the vintage coloring or the brights?

After that, things changed. We were together for family functions, and when my aunt babysat me, living only a seven minute drive apart. I just never hung out with her. As a teen we had different interests. I blossomed and she got terrible acne that welted on her face. I had boyfriends and she didn’t.

Digital color alteration

I have always felt a bit intimidated by her. She has really bad OCD and everything she does is perfect. Her house was always so impeccable, in a rather scary way; of course there was a cost to that. They would call me the homemaker and her the house cleaner. People would tease her about being a fanatical perfectionist, with raw hands from constantly being immersed in water; she could be known to wipe a table five times while you were sitting at it. When we were young adults we’d party together on very rare occasions. The men would switch her drawers around, so she couldn’t find her utensils and dishcloths. There are many sweet things about her now. She has many friends, and she outgrew her nastiness and her humor can make you laugh until you cry! We are just too different in many ways. She’s still married and I’m not. She has a more affluent lifestyle than I do. Sometimes in my darkest moments I feel a little inferior now, not that I should. I just know the family judgments that go with my being unique. Hey, my own mother called me an odd ball  because of my artist tendencies. No one needs to hear that. Besides, who can trust a person who doesn’t have books in their house?

How about you, were you silently bullied by a relative? How did you react?

This is my contribution for Paint Party Friday! Apparently if  too many people look at my images it takes up too much bandwith  so they are bullying me to upgrade by not transmitting my images to my blog, just as another host tried to force me get google plus because I reached my image max... Of course there is no notice this will happen, they just all disappear off my blog...(thankfully they reset every month and today I got them back) This is why conversations on bullying need to start at  a different level, long before it gets to the children.... Any suggestions are grateful!
This week I am again using a new image host!   If you lasted through this long story, bless you....I didn't expect many would!!