You can't be angry at the whole clan...

Ever since I was young, the importance of family in one's life has constantly been drilled into my head. My mother would always tell me that family was important, that you could rely on them when everyone else has run out on you. I put one hundred percent faith in extended family. Poor decision making there.
To say that the cruelty I experienced from the cousins I lived with surprised and angered me would be an understatement. I cannot, to this day, believe I had become the object of so much hate from those I invested so much love in.

I won't bother going into detail about the whole sordid affair but because of the rift between me and three female cousins, I have more or less turned myself into an outsider. Since Christmas, I have not attended family functions lest the vermin decide to grace the occasion with their two-faced presence(s).

I also stayed away because I felt that if faced with a lack of support from any more members of the family, I'd rashly disown the whole lot. My mother's side isn't one to show much affection to each other (but are known for wonderful arguements) but I didn't think I could take seeing my current enemies fawned over while I was questioned.

You see, because I was perceived by the clan as the child born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth, I never got much sympathy compared with the other girls. I didn't expect any this time around.
I knew that because most of the attention was usually showered on the 'girls' (who admittedly had it tough growing up and deserved it back then), soon as word of this little melodrama got out, I'd be on the receiving end of lots of scrutiny.
No matter, one got used to it. Couldn't blame them either. Before this happened, I myself blindly showered all attention and defended the 'girls' anytime something happened.

So since last year, I kept my mouth shut, my head down, and didn't bother giving anyone my side of the story. I'd had enough anyway. I'd proven that I could rely on my friends more than some family and that was enough to keep me away.

I had no idea how much I wanted some inkling of support (or at the very least proof of affection) from the rest until the other day.

After driving my mom to an aunt's house, I realized how much a part of me wanted to still be acknowleged.
My mom got out of the car and my Kuya got into the front seat and asked if I could drop him off at the next corner.
I hadn't seen him in ages and wasn't sure what I was going to get. He playfully tousled my hair (never does that) and asked how I was and such. I kept it light and joked that I was now employed as my mom's personal driver.
Right before he got off, he gave me a hug, kissed me on the head twice (again, he never does that) and told me to take care.
He didn't pry and didn't give me any lectures of the type that I was used to getting from him as a child.
It was like he respected my decisions but was still letting me know that I was important to him.
It was a three minute drive and he was just one Kuya out of the lot - but I instantly felt better. All the angry feelings I was carrying around subsided somewhat and I let myself remember that I was still part of the family.

Halfway home, and with an old eighties song playing in the background, I found I couldn't see the road too well through all the saltwater.