This is a VERY long story and I'm not the best at explaining things so apologies for anything confusing.

One of the things I'm most proud of in my life is that I married the sweetest man alive. He was the first one I ever actually started dating, and it's been 8 years and we're happier than ever.

My husband (Steve, 41) and I (Bob, 29—I'm female, but if “Bob” was good enough for Blackadder, Titan A.E., and Douglas Adams, it's good enough for me) had an amazing 1st year and then a 2-year rough start (according to me—he thinks I was super easy to handle) because of childhood trauma I didn't know I had.

I vaguely remember one of his family get-togethers in Las Vegas not being the best—probably only from my view, as I have a negative view of everything. I don’t remember the Strip or anywhere we went, but I do remember his SIL. I woke up the second morning to her aggravated yelling up the stairs for us to hurry up and get in the car. I felt a little anxious and off when she did so, but chalked it up to just being tired and not knowing everyone well. After showering and dressing, we both realized we were too tired and not too excited to hit the strip that early, so we were talking about going later by ourselves. Then his sister stormed in and yelled at us to “Hurry up and get in the car!” and left again, slamming the door. That’s just the way she is—loud and forceful—but it triggered something in me and I started having a panic attack.

Because it was still so early in learning about them, I immediately started panicking, and when my breath caught, his family looked at me and I panicked more. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but it was similar to “Okay, I really don’t like your sister.” I excused myself to the other room to hyperventilate so no one had to see it. Steve immediately came to help me through it. His sister came in again, again yelling for us to hurry up, and Steve yelled at her to leave. She did and left with everyone she cajoled into the cars. His uncle came in asking what was wrong, saw me hyperventilating, said “Oh, okay,” and left to give us space. I felt so scared and broken but also sorry. I told Steve that I was sure his sister was nice, I just had a panic attack and said that out of fear. Being the saint he is, he understood and even defended me to myself. The rest of the trip was fine as much as I can remember, playing games with his cousins.

Fast forward to 2024. Their father had passed (a kind and ingenious man), and his widow had his ashes. Wanting to plan a camping trip to honor him, Steve’s sister asked (multiple times over several months and with varying intensities) if she could have HALF of the ashes (there are 4 children, his ex-wife, and a widow, so why she thought she was entitled to half boggles my mind). Steve and the widow spoke about it, and after 6 months of being pestered she finally relented and let Steve take half the ashes to do with what he wished, including giving some to his sister.

With this news (a little over a year after their father's death), the SIL tried to get as many people together as possible at a high-elevation camping ground. They used to camp a lot as kids, so camping meant a bunch to them, which is sweet. I only say “high elevation” because the widow was in her 70s and wasn’t able to make the journey herself. SIL wouldn’t listen when Steve said he could scout the area this year (2024) so we’d have a better idea of where to go next year (2025) and could have more people there. I understand grieving, but I don’t understand why she had to force others onto her personal grieving schedule. Well, not everyone—since neither her stepmother, actual mother, sister, or other brother (and I’m sure others) could make it.

We had planned the trip from Tues to Fri in a summer month. We heard about 4 days before that she had contracted Covid...but she still showed up at her uncle’s house to borrow the car. She visited Steve and me at our storage to get photos of her father. She showed up, said hi, made conversation, and even pointed out some cute photos of my husband when he was a kid. I remember her saying, “Do you know who that is? That’s your husband!” while pointing to a tiny picture of a 7-year-old Steve. I was on edge because of the Vegas thing and also the potential of Covid, but during/after this interaction I thought, “Okay, she seems chill, I dont need to be so anxious, I can be cool with her!”

She left, and the next time we’d see her would be up in the mountains with her daughter about a day before we met the rest of the family in the mountains.

Steve and I stayed at his father’s property in the mountains for 2 days until everyone met up in the Sequoias. During those 2 days, his sister came by. Her daughter and I got along, and there wasn’t much talk between the adults so I didn’t notice anything weird. We offered to let them stay the night with us; the daughter and I were excited about a sleepover, but SIL said no, not tonight. Completely understandable. During lunch the next day, SIL and Steve spoke the whole time while the niece and I were kinda quiet/talked with each other. Again, I didn't notice anything weird besides being anxious around SIL again and didn't know why, although I see why looking back.

The next day (day before we met everyone else), we met up at some famous trees because the father wanted his ashes spread there. SIL got her daughter and Steve to take a picture with her. I hung back out of respect because they had all known him longer than I had, so it’d be weird if I was in the pictures, right? Now I remember that she never looked at or spoke to me that entire hike and that's what had been making me anxious.

Everything was fine, and we all met up at the campsite the next day with everyone else. I loved the others who were there—I’d met them before—and his cousin was geeky like me, and the aunt/uncle (same uncle who’d come in at Vegas/the one SIL borrowed the car from) were so kind and funny. I tried to be polite to SIL (stay out of her way, be quiet, and defer) the entire time. Her daughter was super cool aside from some cheating during games. We got along with her cousin when he was in charge of the game (Mysterium) and drawing, but during PVP gaming she would definitely cheat...even though there was a card that would let you look at the next card. To me, it seemed to stem from fear of losing...which I completely understood; I had the same parental figure growing up. I told her that she doesn’t have to cheat to win just because of her mother being aggressive, and she replied, “Yes I do.” Unfortunately, I was in “grumps mode” (more on that later), so I was just irritated with her. After that game, I politely declined any further game invitations unless her cousin or others were playing as well.

I was having issues with alcohol and fear at that time. I've gotten through the alchohol issues now but at the time I was just drinking to try and feel not terrible. My job was causing me extreme depression on top of my natural pessimistic view of the world, and it was hard to stay afloat without Steve or alcohol or friends. Using the anxiety from the SIL as an excuse, I rationalized being drunk most of the time we were camping. It didn’t help that SIL was shunning me, which I didn’t even notice until the next week.

The only time I actually caught on was when she, Steve, and I were out near the road trying to get cell service. She called her stepmother (the widow of the man she’d bullied into giving half the ashes of the man she loved) and said, “Hi, it’s just me and Steve!” At that moment, I knew exactly what she was doing (I’d done it once in 6th grade when a close friend was leaving and I was sad...). I quickly stood up and said, “Oh okay, I get it, I’ll leave since I’m clearly not wanted.” Steve tried to console me and get me to say hi as well, but SIL carried on as if nothing was happening. I left, and as I entered camp, everyone asked where the other two were. I replied, “Oh, Steve and Karen (her name is similar to that but also the connotation) are still over there talking.” The family laughed and went back to what they were doing. At that point, I hadn’t ACTIVELY tried to ignore/stay out of her way other than polite “Oh, you first” kind of things, but after that, I distinctly tried to stay out of her way.

It had been 4 days of this—4 days of stress, alcohol, and trauma triggers, sprinkled amongst a few fun beach moments with Steve and games with his cousins. I knew I had bad anxiety in general and was very depressed/suicidal because of work. I assumed that everything I felt was an internal issue and my fault.

The last night of the trip, SIL and some new people, along with Steve’s other uncle and cousin, were hanging out at the fire.

One small note is that Steve is part of a Native American tribe, and being one of 4 children, he jokes/believes that they each represent an element—seeing how his brother got it to rain after a rain dance, and how he himself is very good with fire, while his sisters are good with earth and wind respectively. I’m not sure how I feel spiritually about this, but I know it’s important to Steve, and that he does indeed know a lot about fire.

During this last campfire when it was just a few people, his sister kept bullheading the conversation and also how/when the logs should be put on the fire. She completely ignored any input from Steve, not even acknowledging he spoke, and it irritated me something fierce. Already on edge, anxious and now very drunk, I paid too much attention to her conversation and how she admonished her uncle about his dating life.

Now, this next part IS my fault. I AM the asshole here. I interrupted and asked her about her bold claims on dating and why it was so black and white. She (for the first time that week, I realized later) looked at me and, with a smile, spoke to me. We argued about what she was saying, and I admit, I was very drunk and used the opportunity to try and “best” her in her own argument. Halfway through, I realized that whatever we were arguing about wasn’t what I actually cared about—I hated her being rude and was overwhelmed by how much I appreciated Steve for being with me. I remember, after she was condescending a few times, I called her a “Narcistic asshole just like my father.”

Steve led me away, and I remember very little about our conversation, but I know I was immediately mortified and guilt-ridden, and we spent some time CBTing my emotions. This was his father’s wake, and no matter how his sister had treated me, I didn’t have to take the bait and fall into my trauma responses.

I went back and apologized, and no one really said anything after that, though I do remember SIL saying something about being excited to see everyone...“except for one.” She also remarked that I was manipulating my husband and he was stupid and we were both broken or something like that. I remember he told her, “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” but I was beyond being able to think clearly between extreme anxiety, embarrassment, and alcohol. Soon after, everyone went to bed, and one of the new girls who’d met both me and SIL for the first time this trip stayed behind to console me and helped me realize that yes, I did need to work on it, but it was okay that I had so much trauma.

The next day, I apologized to everyone involved (the cousin said I didn’t need to apologize to him, it didn’t affect him... but he was there???). The new girl reassured me that it was okay and she understood I was going to get better. SIL never looked at me and just said, “Uh-huh, oh that’s good.” I was still trying to figure things out, but I’d learned that not everyone had grown up completely depressed and put down by their parents as I had. I told SIL this, saying it had been tough, but having Steve help me learn about my trauma and get therapy was really helping. Again, not looking at me, SIL said, “Well it’s good you’re working on it,” and then we didn’t speak again.

A few hours later, we were all in town at a restaurant. I still felt embarrassed even though everyone was treating me normal. During breakfast, the SIL waved her plate in front of me and asked Steve, “Here, do you want any artichokes?” He obliged, and I didn’t mind because I hate artichokes. I still chatted with her daughter and cousin over Fallout Shelter. SIL said nothing. When they went to see a bookstore (I absolutely LOVE books, but the HEAT was KILLING me, so I had to leave before I passed out), everyone was saying bye, and I swallowed my pride/fear and said bye to SIL. Without looking, she said “BYE,” then turned and left with the kids.

It wasn’t until a few days later and several thousand go-overs in my head that I realized she had actively ignored and cut me out of things after the first day we’d met at our shop. I understand her hating me after her perceived slight in Vegas (which she recounted as me “screaming”). I think it’s hilarious that she called me childish after she ignored me like a 6th grader would. The biggest mystery to me is why she was fine talking TO me the first day and then never again after that. Maybe it was because it was just the three of us the first day and after that there was always another family member? Or did something happen in the 36 hours before we met again that made her hate me even more?

Steve’s cousins and aunt/uncle (who got Covid from her, by the way) understood my yelling at her because that’s “how she was,” and his cousins thought it funny/brave that someone finally stood up to her, since they’d given up years ago and just ignored her rudeness. I’m still struggling with her hating me. It’s definitely something to do with my lack of love as a child and her personality being similar to one of my parents. I am actively working on my childhood trauma in therapy and always communicating progress with Steve. His love and support have helped me tremendously these 8 years, and I am beyond happy I found him. I’m determined to better myself not only for my peace of mind but for him.

I was let go from the depressive job and have been suicidal-thought free for 10 months!!! I didn’t know you could actually have a job that didn’t make you hate yourself and life, but the one I have now lifts me up, and the people are so silly and kind.

I still feel anxious and frantic thinking about that camping trip though. Considering I’m usually one who hides away and just pouts in the corner, I’m VERY surprised that I not only started but actively fought against my bully. I mean, I failed and embarrassed myself, but I actually showed my disapproval. O.o Not that it changed anything but my perception of myself, and it made me realize I still have LOTS of room to grow.

After heavy therapy following this incident, I discovered I may be ADHD and/or Autistic. I’m not sure which, if any, because both they, plus trauma, all have overlapping symptoms of anxiety, depression, and low self-esteem. I wonder if having knowledge of those possibilities would have helped me navigate the ignoring better.

It doesn’t matter though, because now I know and am actively working on helping myself. It’s so hard not to assume everyone hates you and that you’re actually worth something, but I’ve realized that if I can’t love myself, I can’t love Steve as much as he should be loved. I know I was a bit of an asshole—a major one towards the end—but was I the only asshole, or were we both pitting ourselves against each other? I'm pretty sure it was ESH.