My Father Poured Wine on Me at My Sister’s Wedding to Humiliate Me — He Had No Idea Who My Husband Was
In a healthy family, when someone does something cruel, the cruelty is the problem, and the family turns toward the person who was hurt.
In a family like mine, the cruelty is never the problem.
The reaction to the cruelty is the problem.
The moment my father poured that wine, the entire apparatus of my family swung into motion, and every single part of it aimed not at him but at me — at containing me, at silencing me, at making sure I did not respond in any way that might disturb the surface.
Don’t ruin the photographs.
