Relatives' Weddings (Part I)

I have two groups of relatives: maternal relatives, and paternal relatives. People in my maternal family sucks, while people in my paternal relatives are really nice. Because my maternal family sucks so much, I choose to talk about this in detail.

My maternal grandfather came from a very big family. It was a family that involved six sons and five daughters. Apparently one of the first few sons died at birth and did not add to the count. I find it quite pointless to have so much children, especially when the family have limited resources. In addition to my modern twist of feminism, I felt sorry for my great grandma, whom I had always viewed with the image of pig and piglets. Am I indicating that I dislike my great grandma? The great grandma whom always showered everyone around her with complaints and disrespect? Quite frankly, yes. The result from having given birth to many children, is a grand separation of groups when those children grew up. Like politics, there were a couple of sons and daughters that my great grandmother favored, a few optimistics whom tried to unite the family just like childhood, a few loners whom refuse to accept their pasts, and a few narcissistics whom only think of themselves. When I was little I usually see my grand aunts and uncles fight against each other verbally, and sometimes physically, which is more entertaining. By the time when I turned to my later teens, I then realized that it was not a family, it was a battlefield.

My family is part of the loners group. We slowly isolated ourselves from all that family politics that was going on within the larger family. We choose to move away from some relatives, we choose to selectively gave out our numbers for contact, we choose to turn off our phones when people called. There were many events that happened before the formation of our current situation, but we have to say, that it is very nice having a small, simple, united family.

My experiences with my relatives were negative, which caused my strong opinions against those people. However, I must admit, that I was also at fault for the outcome. I, unlike other relatives in my generation, am an immigrant. And believe it or not, the whole foreign immigrant status is not a glorious one. When I first came, I immediately given an English name. Soon after I realized what was going on, I developed a strong dislike against that name. It was not only because I do not like the way the name sounds, it was also because my identity was taken away and be given a new one against my will. Of course everyone in my relatives family started calling me by that name. I hated it, but I did not know enough English to accurately express my ideas, and did not know my relatives well enough to speak against them. This vulnerability has placed myself in an extremely unfavorable position, and I remembered it very well.