Learning curve

I can't hold my breath for very long underwater. This is unfortunate when your family insists on torturing you for all of your shortcomings. I can't serve a volleyball. I'm not athletic. As a kid, I was always chosen last for teams in gym. And I'm okay with this.

Except when my mother and sister take to teasing me for this inability to punch a white quilted ball at my boyfriend on the other side of the pool.

See, in celebration of Memorial Day, my family had a pool party on Sunday at my Aunt Cindy's and it was the first time I'd taken a boyfriend to meet my family. Chris held up better than I did, I'd say.

They didn't hassle him much. In fact, most of my family probably said less than 10 words to him. But everyone seemed content with belittling and teasing me in front of him. Some people -- not me -- can let this kind of thing roll off their backs. I've always held the opinions of my family members in high regard and hate that nothing ever seems good enough for them.

My Aunt Cindy and Grammy told me I need to work harder in college (I got one "C" and three "B"s this last semester) while they announced to everyone my two male cousins' very high GPAs. Not that I'm not proud of Danny and Eddie. I truly am. But there was a time when my family even questioned whether the boys would ever go to school (my cousin Danny is 26 and just concluded his first semester), so clearly their excellence in school is a delightful surprise. But for me, the girl who graduated seventeenth in her class, not only was it expected I go to college, now I'm expected to get straight A's. It's too much pressure for one person.

And this lecture from my elders on doing well in school came in front of Chris.

I've never had to worry about what my family thought of a guy -- at least not my extended family. Chris is the first guy I've ever dated to even meet my dad and now he's met the rest of my family. And all in one day he's seeing how they see me and the way I see myself in my family's funhouse mirror.

I can't even begin to imagine how bad I looked, ducking under the water to avoid the barrage of comments about my failed attempts at athleticism. I am simply embarrassed by myself. It's hard when you want to control how someone sees you because you just can't. You can only hope that they find your faults endearing and that they will appreciate you for everything you are -- and everything you aren't.

In the end, I tried following my sister's advice and sent that volleyball soaring over Chris' head at least once... But it didn't feel good as I hadn't done it on my own.

(The above picture is of Robert De Niro and Ben Stiller in Meet the Parents.)