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By Abiola Abrams

“Mom and Pop were just a couple of kids when they got married. He was eighteen, she was sixteen and I was three.” ~ Billie Holiday

A few months ago my brother married his beautiful soulmate in Jamaica. Excited about the pending nuptials, my family all secured tickets and made plans to celebrate their love. Then, through a series of mis-communications it appeared to us as if my mother, sister and I were not invited to the bridal shower. It seemed that my “half-sister”, whom we also love and adore, was planning the shower as it took place in her building. We were not given the date, time or location of the event although I had offered to help the bride, whom I already considered family, with the shower from day one.

Understandably, there were many tears shed over the fact that the person I’ve known the longest on the planet would be getting married and not only would I be excluded from the pre-nuptial events, but so would my mother.

I grew up with one brother and sister in a house with both of my parents. My father was there about eighty-five percent of the time. There were interludes where he would abruptly and suddenly (from my vantage point) move out without notice or discussion. Now, as an adult, I know that those were the times where he had cheated on my mother and fathered “outside children.” Because kids are never as “dumb” as parents think they are to the goings-on around them, in hindsight I also know that my mother would sometimes confront these women and my father. Ultimately he would move back in and we’d pick up from where we left off as a family with no discussion of the dramatic and traumatic events that had transpired.

Post-Traumatic Love Disorder

My brain protected me from the trauma of much of this growing up by forgetting. After all, I had my own childhood and adolescent dramas to deal with; including being bullied, battling raging eczema and nosebleeds along with severe anxiety and emotional eating. It is only in looking back that I am able to see what was going on with clarity and the links between these situations.

Either by accident or by design, I received the message that my father’s comings and goings were not something to discuss — with anyone. After all he was a pillar of the community and an important person. He was there at every special event and if I ever needed anything I only had to ask. For better or worse, I had the best father I knew of.

Nonetheless, I remember bringing my mom a permission slip so that I could talk to the school therapist and she refused to sign it. “Just talk to me,” she said, but I never felt like I could. This created an intimacy gap in my friendships in addition to severe abandonment and trust issues. It also allowed me to be able to compartmentalize my childhood as, my dad was an incredible father but a terrible husband.

As a passionate living coach I now realize that children learn what they live and how we do anything is how we do everything.

Unblended Families.

It was only ten years ago that we, the three different sects of my father’s American children, found out about each other. There are seven of us siblings living in close enough proximity in New York City, yet we never knew for the most part that all of us existed. Ten years may be long for a romantic relationship or friendship, but it’s not a long time to know a sibling. When siblings are raised together you know that you can fight, make up and move forward. When you’re raised in different households you also may have been taught to handle conflict differently.

The biggest open secret is that my unblended family with pockets of “outside children” and different “baby’s mothers” is not as unique as I once thought we were.

Jamilah Creekmur, author of “Raised by the Mistress” suggests that I write a memoir called “Raised by the Wife.” Perhaps one day I will. For now, I am grateful that my siblings have all made a concerted effort as adults to build close, loving relationships as a family.

After Effects.

My parents are still married and I am learning a great deal from them about how relationships mutate and evolve. Ten years ago when my brother, sister and I confronted my dad about the lie of our Cosby-happy childhood he explained that my mother is his “rock” and “foundation.” He said that he would never survive without her and that these women (and others) were angry that he would never walk away from her – and us. From his perspective, these situations took place when they were “on a break” although the break seemingly always took place after the fact.

I often remark that my mother is stronger than I would ever be as she has more than come to terms with our extended siblings. We have vacationed together a few times all together as an adult family. My mother also has my “half siblings” earmarked on her social media pages as her children. Regretful that she never told us about them growing up she preaches often that no child is responsible for the circumstances of their birth and loves them dearly.

I am grateful that I have parents who are willing to be accountable to their adult children and own up to past grievances.

Healing the Misunderstanding.

Regarding the shower snafu, it was almost two months after the wedding that I called a sister’s council for us to discuss what had transpired. Yes, even coaches have challenges with family wounds. It turns out that my half-sister (I only use that term for clarity here) was somehow believing that we were trying to exclude her and the other siblings. We had all retreated to our angry, hurt corners, upset about the perceived betrayals. We were all experiencing exactly the same feelings!

My siblings were all feeling like they were not “immediate family” and therefore did not really count. Meanwhile, I was feeling like my brother preferred his newer, cooler siblings so we were out. If any one of us had picked up a phone to say, “What is happening?” the incident could have been resolved in five minutes. Instead we had all been living under the myth and veil of betrayal, smiling in each other’s faces through the sadness, for about five months. The thought of it now breaks my heart all over again.

How often do we harbor anger at loved ones that could be solved with a simple conversation? If your family is anything like mine, you grew up with terrible communication practices. As children we were never in on any real conversation, leaving us to piece together what was happening in our lives like detectives. Family members talk about slights to each other, rarely confronting the person for any sort of meaningful dialogue. People stop speaking rather than address primal emotional wounds.

At the heart of our beef and many family dramas was, “I am afraid that I am not being loved. I am being disrespected because you don’t care about me. I am unlovable to you.” People stop speaking for generations over this sort of issue.

Forward Movement.

Our mandate, as women and particularly as mothers, is to do better than generations before us. I sympathize greatly with my mother’s challenges. I can’t imagine trying to cope with your own hurt and betrayal and at the same time trying to figure out what’s best for your kids. The situation was not fair to her and it certainly wasn’t fair to us. What mother wants to willingly sit across a Thanksgiving table with their small children and build a bridge with their husband’s other women? However, if the situation dictates that, we must for the sake of our kids.

Open relationship advocates say that they can easily solve these problems, but it’s only an open relationship if all parties involved agree to it.

Unfortunately while we all swirled around in this soup of hurt and betrayal, my dad like most men, remained oblivious. These situations get written off as women’s drama when the men that catalyzed it stand on the perimeter. I was blessed to be raised with the knowledge that my father loves me unconditionally and would do anything for me. It makes a difference with how I move in the world and who I allow into my life. However, when a daughter sees that her mother is “not enough” she gets the message that she is “not enough” as well.

Coaching the women I am honored to work with and listening to the stories of my friends, I find that our dirty little secret is everyone else’s too. I once had a dinner party and of the twenty guests there, every single one had a multi-family dynamic with “half” siblings and “outside children.” All of African decent, they had different versions of unblended families. It wasn’t the easy blending of “The Brady Bunch!” After all, on “The Brady Bunch” no one had betrayed anyone. The ex spouses were vaguely widowed or divorced. It was never really clear but the exes didn’t seem to exist in the new family paradigm.

Blame, Shame and Guilt?

Casting blame, pointing fingers and trying to recount facts thirty years later helps no one. After all, there are always multiple points of view, including his, hers and the truth. We don’t talk about and heal the multi-family dynamic because there is usually some sort of scandal, lie or secretive behavior involved. When it’s just adults involved, consenting adults can make their foolish choices and move on. When children are involved, however, the situation requires more care and attention.

Regardless of the circumstances of your birth, you matter. There is no such thing as a “bastard.” You are worthy and worth loving. A parent has no half children. The fact that you are here on this planet means that you are a loving expression of the Creator. There is nothing shameful about your existence. The missteps of our parents are not our own. There may be broken families but there are no broken children. It is important for us to know this and teach our children the same. This is particularly important because we often recreate the family patterns we grew up in. Again, children learn what they live.

How can we find healing around this issue, not only for ourselves, but for the next generation? If you were not parented in a healthy fashion, it’s time to re-parent yourself. Look toward forgiveness of yourself, your parents, and anyone else involved.

I honor my parents and the mothers of my siblings for making the best choices they knew how to make at the time. I also honor all of my siblings whom I love with my whole heart. It’s now up to me as an adult to make the best choices I can. This is not easy. I stumble, fall and yes, feel blame, shame and guilt.

Evolution is a process, not an event. What a blessing!

Passionate Living Coach Abiola Abrams gives extraordinary women inspiring advice on healthy relationships, evolved sexuality and getting the love we deserve. You’ve seen her love interventions in magazines from Essence to JET and on shows from MTV’s “Made” to the CW Network’s “Bill Cunningham Show.” Find love class worksheets, advice videos, coaching, and more at “Abiola’s Love University.” Tweet @abiolaTV or #loveclass.

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