From Omega to Autonomy: A Journey of Tenacity and Redemption
Navigating the Tumultuous Waters of Family Dynamics and Self-Discovery
‘If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.’ — Zora Neale Hurston
My second eldest sister, Regina, was the alpha among the twelve of us in our single-mother household. She was three years older than me and shaped my personality more than anyone else. I was the Omega — the lowest rank in our sibling hierarchy. My white skin, intelligence, and unwavering optimism didn’t shield me from Regina’s insults; they only fueled her bullying. She hurled names at me like Ragamuffin, Casper, Trick Baby, and Homely. I never retaliated. Once, she derisively called me Pollyanna for a plan I had devised. I don’t recall the plan itself, but the memory of its joyful creation and the sting of her dismissal linger.
I don’t recall which sibling called me nosy, but my uncle heard that and corrected her. “Denise is curious.”
At home, I could not defend myself. Any of my siblings could torment me with Regina’s encouragement. My mother never intervened or punished any of my siblings to stop them. I never hit them.
When the violent attacks on me escalated, my aunts and uncles executed a plan to remove me from the home. One aunt and uncle pretended to be my parents…