family theory

how I really felt when my brother said I love you

Hello, I’ve been thinking about how I really felt when my brother said I love you.  There was how I thought I should feel, how other people thought I should feel, how I wished I felt, and buried underneath years of abuse and pain, how I actually felt.  Takes a long time to find that truth.  The family pain is various and disabling.

Who wants that truth, that some people will exploit everyone, even their own close family members?  Not me!  I would much prefer to trust people.

What a world that would be, if people said what they meant.  Most people seem clueless about how to do love, and not inclined to learn.  They are adults and have their survival strategies figured out.  No need to be vulnerable, have integrity, and actually care about the people who they’re related to.  They twist in it their minds so they are the victim, and do whatever the hell they want.


Do you have a brother?  If so, I wonder how you feel when your brother says I love you to you.

  • Is it hard for you to access how you feel?
  • Is your brother a trustworthy person?
  • Has he been mostly kind to you?
  • Has he been mostly kind to your parents and other people you love?
  • Has your brother been reciprocal with you?  Generous?  Curious?  Helpful?  Respectful?
  • Does your brother love anyone?
the two main ways

The two main ways that I have felt, over the course of my life, when my brother says I love you, are manipulated and filled with sorrow.


I’m guessing that’s not really a feeling.  But that creeped out ick sensation of being lied to is distinctive.

I feel the thin layer of warmth trying to cover a huge chunk of violence.  Doesn’t work.  I’m smarter than to fall for that.  Denial is exhausting, and I’m not doing it anymore.


Sorrow is like a hundred blue tiny birds are trapped in my chest.  They need to fly free.

Denial tries to keep the feeling trapped inside of me.  I would rather let the hundred blue tiny birds out, before they die from dashing themselves against the edges of my insides.


My brother can fool and control other people, mostly women.  But he can’t do that to me anymore.  I won’t hand him any more of my power.

My life is mine.  My resources and my heart are mine also.  He no longer has access to any of it.

But it’s sad that I have two stalkers, and one of them is my own brother.  I would prefer a functional culture where we all get what we need and don’t turn into assholes.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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