Boys Will Be Boys: Weekend Freewrite
![flower-vintage-border.png](https://steemitimages.com/DQmScqDDcAZA5kKhkxzcBH8m5xBvC4zz2kDBynNNBxUCb8u/flower-vintage-border.png)
My brother was doing that thing he did. That thing with the rag in the sink. I watched him lift the rag to his face and sniff it, grimacing from what I assumed was a mildewy smell. It always drove him crazy to have that scent and once he smelled it, things just became obsessive. I knew he’d be standing there for at least he next 30 minutes, washing, rewashing and using half the bottle of soap on it, trying to get rid of the stench. SO much for spending time together.
I wandered away, deciding that it was time to go distract myself for a while. Chad would be busy with his OCD for a while and I had not desire to stand around and witness the crazy again. Yeah, I know I shouldn’t call him crazy, but I feel like our whole family is full of crazy, so we kind of just accept that it’s a label we have.
I walked out the front door into the stifling heat of the summer. The sun was pounding down on the black asphalt, leaving that weird visual in the air above it. It made me think that the world was melting before my eyes. It felt like the heat waves would grow and rise into the sky until the clouds melted like a Salvador Dali painting and start slipping down onto the earth.
I was a bit morbid, I suppose, but those are the kind of thoughts I always had. I walked to the edge of the street and watched my worn our cheap sneakers scuff along in the dirt alongside the curb as I walked. I wasn’t sure where I was going yet, just that I needed to move. The heat was making it hard to breathe, hard to even think and I just had this desperate urge to get away. GO somewhere, FEEL something. Anything other than the horribly stifling dead feelings I was having being here at home.
I was feeling sick of everything. Honestly, I’d been thinking about running away. More than “thinking about it” I suppose, since I’d been planning it pretty much every single night.
The problem wasn’t my mom, or the divorce, as everyone assumed. The problem was one I couldn’t talk about with anyone, really. Let’s just say that my uncle and my cousins… no, my entire family didn’t respect boundaries. One tiny instance I’ll give you that should keep it mostly appropriate was the things they found funny. Like tickling. Only uncle Bill thought that this was funny. No, that’s not true, either. Uncle Bill might have been the one verbally encouraging it and laughing about it, but it was obvious that my cousins thought it was great fun, too. They would get one of us girls trapped in a corner and start tickling us. They would get a weird, scary gleam in their eyes if you begged them to stop or if they made you cry.
Uncle Bill would be laughing and calling us names if we cried, “Don’t be such a pussy! It’s just tickling!” and the boys would take this as inspiration to take things further.
The last time Craig has straddled me on the living room floor and tickled me until I lost my breath. I wasn’t like the other girls and I refused to scream or beg them to stop, so I somehow became the one they targeted first. They hounded me relentlessly. Jumping out from behind things to scare me, to try and get a reaction. They’d gang up on me, with one of them holding me down so that the others could tickle me.
If I complained to my mom or the aunts that were there, they’d just say, “Oh, the boys are just playing” or “I know it’s annoying. Why don’t you just ignore them?
That seemed to be standard in my family. “Boys will be boys” and it was a common enough refrain, no matter what those boys were doing. If it was really bad, it was just talked about in hushed whispers, but even then, it was swept under the rug and left alone.
The tickling wasn’t the only thing those boys were doing, but we all knew that you just didn’t talk about the bad things. The buzzing of the lies grew louder in my head every time I was around my family. I couldn’t hear for the sound of it in my head. I became a recluse, made excuses not to go to family functions as often as I could.
When I did have to go, I spent my time on edge, trying to stay amongst the adults so that the boys couldn’t get to me. I still remember the abject fear and dread I’d feel when the adults would get annoyed by my presence and force me outside, “Why don’t you just go PLAY?” they’d say in frustrated tones. I imagine they didn’t want me to overhear their gossip and talk of their own weekend exploits. Maybe they were just sick of being around kids in general.
I still wonder sometimes, if they knew what they were sending me out to. Of course some part of them has to have known. They’d been raised in this family, with the ‘boys will be boys’ and they either accepted it as normal or they blocked it out so that they could carry on with life.
No one ever wants to hear it. No one wants to talk about it, because you know what? Dealing with this kind of bullshit is really fucking hard. It isn’t fun, it isn’t over quickly and it destroys you inside and out.
I can’t blame them for throwing me to the wolves. For throwing my other cousins to the wolves. Oh wait, yes I can.
Don’t get me wrong, I understand that it was a different time, but I will never forget the feeling of being left alone with those boys, of being told to ‘go play’ or being told in so many words that “Boys will be Boys… just ignore them and they’ll leave you alone.”
I learned all right. I have ignored my family for a decade or so now… and they were right in some ways. They do leave me alone. If only the memories would leave me alone as well.
![flower-vintage-border.png](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://steemitimages.com/DQmScqDDcAZA5kKhkxzcBH8m5xBvC4zz2kDBynNNBxUCb8u/flower-vintage-border.png)
This is my freewrite for the Three Part Weekend Freewrite Challenge by @mariannewest
![flower-vintage-border.png](https://steemitimages.com/DQmScqDDcAZA5kKhkxzcBH8m5xBvC4zz2kDBynNNBxUCb8u/flower-vintage-border.png)
And some of my other more recent posts:
What Would You Do with One Million Dollars in 24 hours?
![One-Million.png](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://steemitimages.com/DQmNMFdPADByYNyAQGdgtjKGfH6DQtvHUjECJbscQ3qWL6j/One-Million.png)
Sunday Funnies: When Cats Get Bored, Letters from a Boat Cat
![tempest-16.png](https://steemitimages.com/DQmTQMPa45Dxc5xBdsfKoBJviTFmxUVaKfmLTmEcKxG1Gnf/tempest-16.png)
Mommy Monday: Puppet Making, Part 4 (Making Poseable Hands)
![BMB-4.png](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://steemitimages.com/DQmbo9wmEhg7PXSD4juxsDYvwwzXfsAEvqMuNtyFuK5TuGw/BMB-4.png)
Try Something NEW Tuesday: I did a Rap Karaoke Video!
![TSNT-eminem-rap.png](https://steemitimages.com/DQmT6Gd58VLW7vNF4CwEBjCquYzghtUGfuD7wHXp6P4eR1Z/TSNT-eminem-rap.png)
Heartbroken "Saying Good-Bye" Freewrite
![saying-goodbye.png](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://steemitimages.com/DQmSs5DBdAyRrbWnoTn14c4Kfm4TJLHPr4TLRkEFn2TkB4A/saying-goodbye.png)
![flower-vintage-border.png](https://steemitimages.com/DQmScqDDcAZA5kKhkxzcBH8m5xBvC4zz2kDBynNNBxUCb8u/flower-vintage-border.png)
![byn-sig.png](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://steemitimages.com/DQmNezsE1h1TBqTRZyr9J95TYHZD7rFyFkG5y2gKTXUaSvc/byn-sig.png)
Great writing, can sense the unease and distress brought on by being forced to be with "the boys".
Thank you. It is definitely a stressful topic to write around!
I guess your freewrite took you long to get it done looking at its excellent form
of expression. I enjoyed reading this awesome write up. Lovely one.
@byn.
It's a weekend freewrite, so there are three prompts. Each prompt uses five minutes, so it's really a 15 minute freewrite, I guess. Thanks
Thanks for sharing with us a part of your inner turmoil. letting it out could be a process of healing. it felt like a real-life story to me. you describe the emotions so well.
There is more reality than fiction in this story, for sure. Thank you for the support. It is very healing for me to write these things out!
My mom consistently crosses boundaries with me. I be like ” I block you from messaging me.” I don’t want to do it, but she’s gotta learn not to come too close. So, yeah, I can relate to this piece.
I had to block my mom for a while when I was in the midst of dealing with things that were particularly hard for me. Even now, I am sure to set firm boundaries. Its definitely the best thing we can do for ourselves, set boundaries to keep ourselves safe.
I agree. I’m learning to hold those boundaries firmly in place. I’m still collapsing, but I’m better than a couple years ago.
That's the great thing about writing, it finds a way in and often enough, it helps you heal. <3
This was very well written (I was going to say 'a beautiful story', but it was not that), @byn.
Thank you so much. These freewrites have been SO healing for me in so many ways. If I were to sit and TRY to write about something in particular to deal with it, it would be stilted and difficult... but these just seem like it just bursts out and I feel lighter. It really is awesome!
I know what you mean - I often look back after a writing session and think now, where did that come from?. I've uncovered a lot of stuff in my head through writing, especially through freewrites. They made me ask myself why I go to the dark places when I have to do a freewrite...Very helpful :)
Absolutely! I totally understand! I'm glad we both found this outlet!
I was afraid I was too dark. After reading your story, I feel better - maybe it was the prompts that thew us into darker areas of our souls. If this was therapy, I hope it helps.
I can always be counted on to make other people feel better about delving into darker topics. I do it often. :/ Thanks for reading. It's all stuff I dealt with long ago, but I guess it still resonates somewhere deep inside where writing comes into play. At least I didn't murder anyone in this particular writing... ?
Congratulations @byn! You have completed some achievement on Steemit and have been rewarded with new badge(s) :
Click on any badge to view your own Board of Honor on SteemitBoard.
To support your work, I also upvoted your post!
For more information about SteemitBoard, click here
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOP
Ahh Byn. So many kids have been left to fend for themselves. And those lame boys will be boys excuses. It seems we are just blowing the lid off the "boys" who are men of power and still do the same to the women around them....
I was supposed to bring you the prompt on Sunday - but I forgot 😩
Did you, by any chance, do the weekend freewrite where the first prompt was the same - only with a female protagonist. Please let me know if yes.
And I know you know about the party - but please, invite others as well :)
Yes, I did the freewrite with that prompt: https://steemit.com/weekendfreewrite/@byn/the-power-of-secrets-weekend-freewrite