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(from my journal)

I was reading “Recreating Your Self” (Nancy Napier) where it talked about (pg 211) children having roles around their parents needs and interaction with each other and I was struck with how I fit into the family. I didn’t have a role to play at all. I only took abuse and shut up about it trying to make myself (though not very successfully) invisible. I didn’t ‘help’ my parents at all. I was not a part of the family at all. I was, and always will be, an outsider. I have a memory that just came up about going with mom on one of her daily walks. It was night and we were passing by the Pendergast’s house. We could see into their front window and watched the family all gathered together for dinner. We were outsiders looking in. For some reason this stuck with me deeply because it demonstrated, in living color, how much of an outsider I really am. Right there, I was an outsider – looking in.