A letter to … my sister-in-law to say I've had enough

The letter you always wanted to write

It is my birthday soon and when I spot the envelope neatly handwritten by you, I shall feel downcast and wish you hadn't bothered. That sounds ungracious and unnecessary but I just wish I could walk away from any contact with you. I met you 40 years ago. You are 14 years older than me and were more like the mother-in-law I met only once. You were welcoming and friendly, absorbing me into your family. You were struggling in a difficult marriage at that time and battled to bring up your children while you qualified as a teacher. I admired your boundless energy and multitude of practical abilities.

But from the start I realised how different we were. You are extrovert and strong. When something upsets you, your response is to get angry rather than feel sorry for yourself and cry as I would. We could never have a conversation, as you would always talk at me and were never happier than when you were telling me what I should do. You once condemned me as someone who didn't want to work, just because I didn't want to do what you had done. 

We socialised regularly in those days. You would want to take an interest in me and mine but you would trample over me unthinkingly. I remember being horrified when you suspended my son upside down over the pond; a jolly jape in your judgment, but upsetting to a sensitive three-year-old and his protective mum. I acknowledge you were helpful when our children were small and we were trying to do up a house.

You joined us on holiday one year and thrust a business card into your brother's hand, announcing that you had met "him"; a successful businessman, whom you married shortly afterwards. Our relationship changed after that. Your husband noticed there was something not quite right in the way you and I interacted. He wrote me a letter commenting on it and wondering what had gone wrong between us, and whether it could be put right. He called you a "people person", which rankled – so what did that make me? But after a few failed attempts at trying to describe how I felt, the letter went unanswered.

We met up less often. As you became wealthier you seemed to become more penny pinching. You bought a job lot of glass chess sets one year as Christmas presents. Your grandsons had one each and I had the free one. When I protested that I didn't play chess, you suggested I might take it up, as it is a very good game. We abandoned present giving shortly after this. And although you didn't realise it, I had also abandoned the relationship with you.

Your brother values the family tie and phones you fairly regularly. He particularly wanted your support through a major heart operation he had. You were quite slow to realise the serious nature of it and then dumbfounded me by your response that you knew he would be all right as God still had work for him to do. I find myself wanting to keep secrets from you, which is very unlike me. I have recently had a cancer diagnosis, non-invasive and non-aggressive. You would find this difficult to grasp and I know your response would be that your family doesn't get cancer.

For my husband's sake we both continue to go through the motions. When you ring I pass the phone over like a hot potato as your cheery voice sends shivers through me. You like to keep us up to date with your news and there is quite a strong competitive streak in this. You head up quite a dynasty with two great-grandchildren in your clan while we eagerly await the birth of our first grandchild. But the only one of my children you want to focus on is our middle son who has found life a bit more difficult. You comment how funny it is that some men don't have girlfriends. I wouldn't dream of talking to you about him as you wouldn't listen and aren't interested in subtleties. You have alienated your own son to the point of estrangement.

I understand that the blood tie between you and your brother will endure and we shall meet at birthday bashes, weddings and funerals. Of course I can be civil on those occasions. I rather despair, though, of you ever getting the message that I don't want your input into my life. I have recently developed quite severe food intolerances and I realise them to be such. Sadly, I would say that I am allergic to you. Anonymous

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