Family

My name‿ is Henry. It was my father's‿ expectations,│ rather than my own‿ inclinations,│ that shaped my upbringing,│ and‿ it has taken me twenty-five years to come to terms with that.

At fifteen‿ I was steered towards‿ a technical school,│ not because‿ I lacked‿ ability│ but because‿ a trade was considered safe. Nobody asked what‿ I wanted^wan-did,│ and‿ I was not rebellious‿ enough to insist. I spen(t) two decades‿ in‿ a factory that has│ since closed,│ while my sister,│ who was‿ allowed to choose,│ became‿ a physician. When‿ I raise this‿ at Sunday lunch,│ my mother tells me I am being‿ unfair,│ an(d) there‿ is something‿ in│ that:│ they made sacrifices,│ an(d) gratitude was‿ assumed rather than requested. What‿ I cannot‿ accept‿ is the implication that│ because the sacrifice was real,│ the resentment‿ is not.

Our‿ extended family still gathers‿ every week,│ and‿ it holds together‿ on the surface. What holds‿ it together‿ underneath‿ is‿ a good deal‿ of‿ emotional labour performed‿ almost‿ entirely by two aunts│ an(d) nobody in my generation. In hindsight,│ what‿ I would have‿ asked for‿ is not freedom but‿ a conversation. It seems to me that‿ a family can be both‿ unconditional‿ an(d) fractious,│ an(d) that‿ it‿ is possible to love people to│ whom you are beholding‿ every year‿ of your life.