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Ok. Final part. If I’m talking about trust issues, then I also have to talk about my mother. She raised me. My father was also present in my life, but not emotionally involved. He worked hard day in and out to provide for his family, and when he was home he got to emotionally check out, and relied on my mother to take care of business with the children. It’s a common story, right.
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Last week I wrote about how my family gave me trust issues. I briefly wrote about how my experience in brown (or Surinamese-Hindustani) spaces wasn’t a safe one for me. In part because of my messed up Family and the destabilizing formative years. But there’s another layer to it:
Photo by Blanca Paloma Sánchez via Unsplash
There are many reasons why I have trust issues, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that I don’t feel safe around my own people, in my own community, and that’s because of Family. I don’t think that’s talked about enough.
Sure, we all know about judgmental aunties... but let me tell you about mine.
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