I have an aunt who needs a smack to the head, in hopes that she'll learn a thing or two. I don’t like her-- I never have, and I never will. (Well, I have two aunts I can't stand, but this is just for one.)
This woman felt that she had the right, throughout my childhood, to dictate how I kept my bedroom. Every time she'd come in from out of town, she'd go into my room, and act like bloody Hitler, to "clean". No. That's not your right. You are not my mother. You do not live here. You do not get a say. Yes, my bedroom made disaster zones look organized, back then, but you had ZERO right to do that.
She's one of those narcissistic jerks who thinks she's the center of attention, and if you don't acknowledge her in the way she thinks you should, she needles you until you do. Yes, she has some serious narcissistic tendencies. She should know that, too. I mean, she has a degree in psychology, which we are all aware of, because somehow it makes her better...?
I've bitten my tongue for thirty years, when it comes to her, but I'm done. I sincerely hope she's reading this, because I will not be acknowledging her existence again. I'm fed up, and today was the final straw.
She and my uncle are in town, again. They came to the house to pick up my mom and the other narc, to go do some super boring stuff. They're on the porch, chatting, and I open the door, to find out where I need to move my car. I get a "hello" and a smile from my uncle. That's it, because he's the normal one. Then the aunt... she says hello, right about the same time uncle does. I wave, because I'm me. She then proceeds to say "hello" again, like I've done her some great injustice. My mom tells her I'm antisocial, because, well... I am. What aunt said next, had my blood boiling. She says, "I don't care! I'm her aunt!" and tries to push past my mom, to get to me.
Yeah, I heard that. Hearing aids are wonderful inventions. They're great to be able to hear, and even better is taking them out when you don't want to listen to someone.
Aunt... no. You may be my aunt, but that gives you exactly ZERO right to invade my space, my privacy, and it sure as ever loving HELL does NOT give you the right to touch me. That psychology degree is absolutely useless if you can't grasp basic "touch me and die" or "I don't wanna talk to you" body language.
You aren't the center of the universe. You aren't special. You're factory-standard. If someone acknowledges you like the queen you think you are, it's probably because they want to avoid your theatrics.
Stop.
Now.
You don't get to dictate other people's lives.
You're not God.
Bye!
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