My cousin now knows what's been going on here at home. Opening up to her wasn't easy. I haven't told her everything, just some of it. It was hard enough to admit to her that there was something wrong. She asked me if it was bad enough that I would think about leaving. I told her, if I had the means I'd leave in a heart beat.
Talking to a friend or to my beloved about it all is one thing. But admitting and telling a family member, is entirely different. Admitting it to her makes me feel like I've failed a million times over. Admitting it to her makes it real...realer than it's ever been. And that's really hard. Harder than I thought it would be.
Part of me regrets telling her. Part of me feels like I should have kept my secret. I am afraid of how my family will view me now. Surely she will tell my aunt and uncle. I know they will talk about it, talk about me. My gut tells me that they will tell her stay out of it and mind her business. That it's my problem to deal with. It's one of the reasons I've kept it to myself to begin with. And now that they know...what will they think of me?