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The present study aimed to investigate the place of the sibling in narratives of developmental trauma as well as the sibling relationship’s impact on the formation of sense of self. Another area of interest was the impact of congruence versus incongruence in the narrative between siblings. In other words, this study sought to illuminate the impact when the sibling is understood to have reached different conclusions about shared experiences of abuse and neglect.
This study is grounded in the literature on siblings from psychoanalytic, attachment, and family systems perspectives. A series of narrative interviews were conducted with participants who identified as survivors of childhood abuse and neglect and had a sibling in the home during these experiences. The data was then analyzed using a method of narrative analysis adapted from Lieblich, Tuval-Mashiach, and Zilber (1998). The analysis was organized to address the relevant themes that emerged around the sibling as a figure in their story, as well as sense of self, sense of narrative congruence or incongruence with the sibling, and narrative form.
The sibling emerged as an ambivalent figure in the context of trauma, capable of facilitating growth and possibility or compounding the effects of the trauma through repetition of harmful dynamics. These elements were categorized into broader themes of foreclosure and themes of transformation. Another theme that emerged was that of meaning making. Cultural influence, particularly religion, gender, and race, were explored as crucial factors that shaped the meaning making process as well as sense of self

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Duquesne University Duquesne Scholarship Collection Electronic Theses and Dissertations Summer 8-10-2024 Lateral Others in the Trauma Narrative: The Place of the Sibling in Accounts of Abuse and Neglect Michelle Browne Follow this and additional works at: https://dsc.duq.edu/etd  Part of the Clinical Psychology Commons Recommended Citation Browne, M. (2024). Lateral Others in the Trauma Narrative: The Place of the Sibling in Accounts of Abuse and Neglect (Doctoral dissertation, Duquesne University). Retrieved from https://dsc.duq.edu/etd/2233 This Immediate Access is brought to you for free and open access by Duquesne Scholarship Collection. It has been accepted for inclusion in Electronic Theses and Dissertations by an authorized administrator of Duquesne Scholarship Collection. For more information, please contact beharyr@duq.edu.       LATERAL OTHERS IN THE TRAUMA NARRATIVE: THE PLACE OF THE SIBLING IN ACCOUNTS OF ABUSE AND NEGLECT     A Dissertation  Submitted to the McAnulty College and Graduate School of Liberal Arts    Duquesne University  In partial fulfillment of the requirements for  the degree of Doctor of Philosophy  By Michelle A. Browne  August 2024                        Copyright by  Michelle Browne  2024     iii   LATERAL OTHERS IN THE TRAUMA NARRATIVE: THE PLACE OF THE SIBLING IN ACCOUNTS OF ABUSE AND NEGLECT    By Michelle Browne Approved February 23, 2024   ________________________________  ________________________________ Dr. Lori Koelsch, PhD  Dr. Jessie Goicoechea, PhD Professor of Psychology Professor of Psychology (Committee Chair) (Committee Member)    ________________________________ Dr. Leswin Laubscher, PhD Professor of Psychology (Committee Member)     ________________________________  ________________________________ Kristine L. Blair   Dr. Elizabeth Fein, PhD Dean, McAnulty College & Graduate  Chair of Psychology Department School  Professor of Psychology Professor of English      iv ABSTRACT  LATERAL OTHERS IN THE TRAUMA NARRATIVE: THE PLACE OF THE SIBLING IN ACCOUNTS OF ABUSE AND NEGLECT    By Michelle Browne February 2024  Dissertation supervised by Dr. Lori Koelsch, PhD Though often peripheral in the literature on developmental trauma, the sibling serves as an impactful figure in psychological life. The present study aimed to investigate the place of the sibling in narratives of developmental trauma as well as the sibling relationship’s impact on the formation of sense of self. Another area of interest was the impact of congruence versus incongruence in the narrative between siblings. In other words, this study sought to illuminate the impact when the sibling is understood to have reached different conclusions about shared experiences of abuse and neglect.  This study is grounded in the literature on siblings from psychoanalytic, attachment, and family systems perspectives, with special attention to how the sibling has been conceptualized in relation to identity through these different lenses. A series of narrative interviews were conducted with participants who identified as survivors of childhood abuse and neglect and had a    v sibling in the home during these experiences. The data was then analyzed using a method of narrative analysis adapted from Lieblich, Tuval-Mashiach, and Zilber (1998). The analysis was organized to address the relevant themes that emerged around the sibling as a figure in their story, as well as sense of self, sense of narrative congruence or incongruence with the sibling, and narrative form.  The sibling emerged as an ambivalent figure in the context of trauma, capable of facilitating growth and possibility or compounding the effects of the trauma through repetition of harmful dynamics. These elements were categorized into broader themes of foreclosure and themes of transformation. Another theme that emerged was that of meaning making—navigating the trauma history in a way that aimed to make sense of or understand what had happened. Cultural influence, particularly religion, gender, and race, were explored as crucial factors that shaped the meaning making process as well as sense of self. Other themes of responsibility, divergent paths between siblings, and breaking trauma cycles emerged here as well. In approaching sense of self in the narratives, themes of differential treatment, identification and differentiation, and independence and connection were most salient. A multiplicity of self was also noted in participant narratives, with layers of identity shaped by internalized, rejected, and transformed messages about the self in relation to the sibling and context of developmental trauma. Narrative congruence was noted to operate on a spectrum, with high narrative congruence typically leading to a deeper sense of connection and growth in relation to the sibling, whereas the impact of narrative incongruence was mediated by the presence of hope or identification/differentiation from the abusive parent(s). In the cross-narrative analysis of form, a general structure emerged across the narratives, demonstrating how the sibling trajectory is intertwined with the overall life trajectory. Narrative mythic form was also explored in relation    vi to the sibling, with discussion of how narrative form contributes to the generation of meaning within a relational field. The study also connected thematic material from the interviews to the literature on siblings in psychoanalytic, family systems, and trauma literature.                        vii ACKNOWLEDGMENT  First and foremost, I am incredibly grateful to the people that trusted me with their stories for this project. This process has been an honor and a privilege, and without their contributions this would not have been possible. Thank you for your openness and the opportunity to bear witness to your stories. Second, I want to thank the patients that I worked with through the Duquesne University Psychology Clinic as part of my training. The idea for this dissertation started with you, and more than a year after closing our clinical work I am still learning from you.  Next, my deepest gratitude to my committee, Drs. Koelsch, Goicoechea, and Laubscher, for guiding my thinking and offering their reliable support through this process. Thank you especially to Dr. Koelsch for your encouragement, kindness, and mentorship. I am a better psychologist and researcher because of your influence, and I will carry what you have taught me far beyond my time at Duquesne. Thanks also to Drs. Brooke and McElfresh for your support over the past several years. Your influence is embedded in these pages as well.   I must express my enduring appreciation, of course, to Pavan and Brad, those members of my cohort who have been a steadfast source of camaraderie and inspiration while in the trenches of our doctoral pursuits. I’m so glad I got to take this journey with you. To Cristina, Matt, and Michelle F., who were my frequent companions in labor at coffee shops all across Pittsburgh, and even Zoom when internship brought us to new places. Thank you for the laughs, thank you for believing in me. I could not have done it without you. Thanks to Tristan, whose companionship and support were crucial in the final days of this work’s creation.     viii Finally, I must express my gratitude to my sister Vicki, my cousin Elyse, and my dear friend Kim, the most influential lateral others of my life. Your influence is deeply engrained in these pages, and I am who I am, in large part, because of your love and constancy. The deepest roots of my faith in myself and this world were cultivated in my connections to you.                        ix TABLE OF CONTENTS Page Abstract .......................................................................................................................................... iv Acknowledgments......................................................................................................................... vii Introduction ................................................................................................................................... xii Chapter One: Literature Review ......................................................................................................3 The Sibling in Psychoanalysis .............................................................................................3 Phenomenology, Attachment, and Mental Health Outcomes ..............................................9 Systems Theory, Sibling Roles, and Intrafamilial Strife ...................................................14 The Sibling and Identity Formation ...................................................................................20 Anticipating Culture...........................................................................................................25 The Place of Narrative in Psychological Life ....................................................................27 The Trauma Narrative and the Sibling ...............................................................................32 Research Questions ............................................................................................................36 Chapter Two: Method ....................................................................................................................38  Narrative Inquiry ................................................................................................................38  Recruitment, Eligibility, Consent, and Confidentiality .....................................................42  Interviews ...........................................................................................................................45  Data Analysis ....................................................................................................................46   Reflexivity..............................................................................................................50   Member Checks .....................................................................................................51 Chapter Three: Individual Narrative Findings ...............................................................................53  Alaina .................................................................................................................................53    x  Barry ..................................................................................................................................67  Elizabeth ............................................................................................................................84  Mia .....................................................................................................................................98  Mark .................................................................................................................................113  Camille .............................................................................................................................136  Caleb ................................................................................................................................158  Lena..................................................................................................................................170 Chapter Four: Cross Narrative Findings ......................................................................................192  The Sibling Relationship as Ambivalent Bond ................................................................192    Foreclosure……………………………………………………………………...196    Transformation………………………………………………………………….201    Meaning Making………………………………………………………………..205    Sense of Self……………………………………………………………………213  Narrative Congruence and Incongruence .........................................................................218  Cross Narrative Analysis of Form ...................................................................................222  Reflexivity........................................................................................................................229 Chapter 5: Closing Remarks, Limitations, and Further Directions .............................................231 References ....................................................................................................................................245 Appendices ...................................................................................................................................255  A: Qualtrics Survey..........................................................................................................255  B: Reddit Post ..................................................................................................................256  C: Stamped Flyer .............................................................................................................258  D: Stamped Pamphlet ......................................................................................................259    xi  E: Sample Participant Email ............................................................................................261  F: Pre-Interview Screening ..............................................................................................262  G: Colombia Suicide Severity Rating Scale (CSSRS) ....................................................264  H: PQ-162 ..........................................................................................................................65  I: Consent Form ...............................................................................................................266  J: Semi-structured Interview Guide .................................................................................275                     1 Introduction In the few years I’ve spent doing clinical work, I have repeatedly encountered patients whose psychological lives are deeply impacted by their siblings. This makes sense given that most individuals in the United States have at least one sibling (Milevsky, 2011; Whiteman et al., 2011), and that sibling relationships are often cited as the longest-lasting relationships in individuals’ lives (Noller, 2005). Despite the apparent ubiquity of the sibling as a foundational other, its importance is often neglected in clinical training and theory. This seems to mirror a larger trend in much of the literature, where the sibling is neglected as a lateral other of psychological significance (Whiteman et al., 2011). In conversations with patients and others who have survived chronic developmental trauma in abusive and neglectful homes, the sibling seems to emerge from the periphery, often as an afterthought. As the discussion unfolds, it often becomes clear that the sibling shapes how the traumatic history is remembered and interpreted.  This study is concerned with how people understand their own story and the place of their sibling in it. Through qualitative interviews, this study addresses some specific questions evoked in clinical practice: how is the place of the sibling understood in the participants’ larger narrative of developmental trauma in adulthood? How does this impact sense of self? Furthermore, what is the impact of narrative congruence or incongruence for the participants, their stories, and the sibling relationship? In other words, what is the impact on the sibling relationship—or indeed on psychological life more generally—when someone knows that their sibling recognizes and agrees with their understanding of a traumatic family history versus when they have a different interpretation, or outright reject it? These questions are bound up within broader areas of exploration—like multiple roads that intersect at the place where sibling, trauma, and personal narrative meet. What follows is a general exploration of how these    2 elements have been taken up in the literature so far. This includes how they emerge in psychoanalytic literature as well as the literature on development, attachment, and identity formation—and how trauma shapes the sibling’s impact within these domains.        3  Chapter One: Literature Review It is useful to begin approaching the intersection where sibling, family violence, and trauma narrative meet by first exploring more generally how siblings have been conceptualized across theoretical frameworks. In this section, I discuss some of the literature that most informs the lens of this study.  The Sibling in Psychoanalysis It has been argued that historically, there has been a neglect of the sibling in psychoanalytic theory, with vertical axes of development (parent-child) favored over lateral ones (sibling-sibling) (Coles, 2003; Mitchell, 2013). Freud postulated and normalized the idea that sibling relationships were textured by feelings of rivalry, jealousy, and competition (Coles, 2003). This primary focus on hatred, hostility, and murderous intention evokes the Biblical stories of Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, and Joseph and his brothers, confirming an enduring cultural understanding of the sibling relationship as a site of violence (Coles, 2003). Coles (2003) suggests that this rather restricted view of the place of the sibling in the formation of inner life may be a symptom of Freud’s desires to protect his formulation of the Oedipal complex, as this vertical axis of development might have been threatened by the significance of a lateral other. For example, Coles (2003) cites Freud’s treatment of “The Wolfman,” during which Freud (1918/2011) would insist that the patient’s strained relationship with his sister (which included incestuous acting out of fantasies, rejection, and her eventual suicide) was not a part of his neurosis, despite the Wolfman’s own insistence upon her importance. Freud’s lack of attendance to the sibling is one example of a larger theme: in the study of psychological life, the sibling is often neglected despite their clear significance. This neglect continued with Jung’s suggestion of        4  the Electra complex as the heteronormative myth of female development—her brother Orestes is a vague afterthought despite his centrality as Electra’s accomplice in matricide (Scott, 2005). Others have suggested, however, that psychoanalysis was not completely neglectful in its exploration of the sibling as a figure in psychological life. For example, Freud did discuss how siblings hold an important position as influences on future socialization of the child and their general social functioning (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018).  Alfred Adler was one of the most prominent early figures to attend to the issue of birth order and personality development in siblings. He claimed that it was necessary to understand the influence of birth order as well as context, and the child’s interpretation of their position as a catalyst for particular behaviors (Adler, 1937/2012). For example, his discussion of birth order paints the first-born child as initially spoiled before the arrival of the sibling, which can lead either to a retention of the firstborn’s desire to be the “good one” or alternatively can inspire them to take on a “bad” role to reclaim attention while the second born becomes the “good one” (Adler, 1937/2012). In domains where one sibling excels, the other may balk in favor of developing their own separate skills. He also discusses the issues relevant to the second born child, and the youngest, as well as the difficulties of the only child, and how this can translate into longer term lifestyle characteristics. The dynamics described are rife with jealousy and strivings for attention and dominance. He also discusses how the way men and women are valued in the environment has an impact on the development of the child and their relationship to their own gender identity. While he does account for how context can have an impact, his theory neglects a more in-depth appreciation of the diversity of sibling identity patterns and how these relate to the allocation of family resources (Steelman et al., 2002). His work has also been        5  critiqued for propagating a deeply pathologizing view towards homosexuality, conceptualizing it as a “snare” that people fall into only when their development has been seriously compromised (Maniacci, 2012). Adler’s work should therefore be applied with caution, understanding the potential impact of these limitations in building a nuanced understanding of the sibling relationship.  Klein (1932) holds to the Freudian belief that hatred is the basis of object relations with parents, while also claiming that the emotional foundation of the sibling relationship is more complex. She argues that the hateful impulses initiated in the Oedipus conflict are balanced out by the love and companionship of siblings and peers, and it is in the sibling relationship that the envy and jealousy of the maternal breast is repaired (Klein, 1932). In their discussion of Klein’s work, Hindle and Sherwin-White (2018) discuss how these destructive impulses and instincts in a child which become constructive over time, pointing to psychological growth and more nuanced and healthy object relationships. This process of transformation is crucial to future health in relationships and human connection. In fortifying a capacity for love and friendship with siblings, the developing child opens the doors of possibility to friendships with others at school, and as time goes on, this can be “the foundation for the choice of (loving and lovable) partners in adult life. Klein’s socialization includes the child’s acquisition of some conscience, capacity for empathy, sense of responsibility, and consideration for objects” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 45). Thus, we can see how crucial the sibling is for the development of healthy psychological life and a capacity for human connection. Additionally, unresolved childhood conflicts with siblings may leave a long-term residue, inviting unconscious repetition with colleagues and older adults later in life. We can also glean some understanding of the sibling as a        6  figure made poignant in absence. Where there is no sibling, an imaginary sibling may be generated to satisfy the child’s longings and may function either as an important source of solace or emotional pain (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). Part of Klein’s theory included the possibility that sibling incest could be a positive factor in psychological development. Though Klein’s (1932) formulation of sibling incest has been extensively criticized, her theoretical standpoint overall opens up the place of the sibling as facilitator of mental health, alliance, and positive identification.  An example of this can be seen in Anna Freud and Sophie Dann’s (1951) discussion of six war-orphaned children, three girls and three boys between the ages of three and almost four years old, who were looked after in a children’s home from 1945-1946. They had never known anything like family life. While they displayed aggression and inconsistent behavior towards the adults, they were extraordinarily kind to one another and never expressed jealousy or aggression. Once they began attaching themselves to adults, however, they began to quarrel physically. Despite this, their primary attachment to one another never wavered. According to Freud and Dann (1951), the children’s psychological health in the absence of an adult parental attachment served as proof that relationships with lateral others were significantly supportive. Coles (2003) suggests that this study demonstrates that the parental relationship is not the sole bearer of responsibility for psychological health or malady—the sibling relationship, or the lateral axis of engagement more generally, is also fundamental. This study also raised questions about how vertical and horizontal relationships intersect and have an impact on each other. Additionally, the study was uniquely positioned to address this from the perspective of adult participants.        7  In contemporary psychoanalysis, Mitchell (2013) makes a similar plea for the importance of lateral relations as they bear the “minimal difference from each other” and, from a psychoanalytic point of view, are thought to be the “symbolic source of those that follow or succeed them: cousins, partners, wives, husbands, friends, and foe” (p. 14). For Mitchell (2013), the arrival of the sibling is inherently a crisis, a dethroning that must be reckoned with. The arrival of the sibling is what she calls the “sibling trauma.” The loss of the breast is conflated with the arrival of the sibling—the toddler’s identity is threatened with obliteration, with a sudden disintegration of ego and position within the family. Along with this, however, there is a profound love for this new other who is like them. This ambivalence must be surmounted if psychological life is to be cultivated fruitfully. The new baby is at once too close, commands a sameness that inspires wishes for incest, while also too other, which inspires wishes for murder. These desires are traumatic, the toddler cannot act them out—they are prohibited by what Mitchell (2013) calls the “Law of the Mother,” which necessitates that the child transform these forbidden feelings or displace them elsewhere. These feelings will, for example, later be funneled into romantic love and fighting against the enemy. Through this sibling trauma, the toddler also gains access to its own gendered self—it is now a brother or a sister, not merely a child—which has an impact on subjectivity. Depending upon other factors, such as age difference, the birth of the sibling can mark a break between pre-social infancy and social childhood.  Western culture has historically cast out the feminine and lateral as other, while masculinity and the vertical axis of relationship is accepted as normative. Contrary to a traditional psychoanalytic focus on fear of castration the sibling experience can be thought of as        8  referencing emotions that are associated with the feminine: “annihilation, fears of loss of love, leaning on the other for confirmation, (and) tendencies toward being the object of love as opposed to the active position” (Lament, 2013, p. 5, as quoted in Mitchell, 2013 p.18). She argues that this patriarchal structuring of understanding can result in a neglect of the sibling relationship and a lost opportunity to address issues of incest and violence that live in our culture’s engagement with the lateral others of our lives—it not only has an impact on how we address (or ignore) sibling abuse, but also impacts our cultural acting out of these issues in love relationships and war. For Mitchell (2013), “subject/subject interaction…takes place in the zone of siblinghood” (p. 123). The moral issues in this realm eventually land on the ability to accept instead of murdering the other who is very much like oneself—that selfsame other. Mitchell’s Law of the Mother dictates that "before they are equal in their sameness to each other for their father, children must be equal in their difference from each other for their mother” (Mitchell, 2013, p. 11). The Law of the Mother introduces seriality, difference, and encourages the development of a sense of having room for oneself as well as others. This decree of differentiation helps to create barriers to abuse and incest between siblings. These issues can be considered forms of boundary crossing, borne from an absence of recognition of the needs, feelings, and place of the other person—instead there is engulfment and seduction. Where there is lack of recognition, there are extremes—idealizing love, demolishing hate, and both love and hate without boundaries. According to the Law, you cannot wish the death of the other, as this obliterates the self. You also must love your sibling, but not romantically. Mitchell (2013) also describes how paternal and marital violence, female social isolation, poverty, and the denigration        9  of women all contribute to the prevention of women occupying the position of lawgiver and holding the Law of the Mother in place.  The psychoanalytic perspective on siblings offers us a view of the sibling as a force of psychological ambivalence, and a possible source of positive identification and connection even in the face of great difficulty. They can both transmit trauma, or facilitate healing (Orange, 2014). This has implications for how the individual goes on to live out other relationships with significant lateral others. Furthermore, the sibling relationship—it’s emotional texture, quality, and capacity to offer attachment—is directly impacted by its embeddedness in the dynamics of early developmental context. This means that factors like caregiver dynamics, socioeconomic status, cultural factors, etc. can all have a hand in how the relationship takes shape. Phenomenology, Attachment, and Mental Health Outcomes Phenomenology can offer another theoretical layer to understanding sibling attachment and its implications. Psychoanalysis and phenomenology have often been considered at odds with one another. Psychoanalysis splits human subjectivity between the conscious mind and the unconscious and is foundationally concerned with internal mechanisms and drives. This stands in contrast to the holistic notions of phenomenology, wherein human experience is a matter of what emerges through Dasein’s encounter with the world, and all that is disclosed or restricted within the felt sense of possibility. For all their differences, psychoanalysis and phenomenology both aim to understand opaque dimensions of human experience and attend to human temporality. Psychoanalysis is particularly useful in its capacity to encounter the temporal complexity of human relationships and its relationship to concealed, overdetermined motivations that push us towards certain ways of meeting the world and others. Phenomenology conceives of subjectivity        10  as inextricably linked to the world and others and our thrownness into historical context, without a preconceived notion of a split between the subject and these other elements of being. For the purposes of this project, the tension between these perspectives is useful—it offers a complex vision of how siblings have an impact on the development of human experience.  The intersection between phenomenology and attachment theory is one theoretical arena that attends to the relationship between human temporality and relationality. Development is usually framed as a process that occurs between the child and those who care for them. Typical development includes the cultivation of secure attachment between infant and caregiver. Reuther (2014) references Heidegger in discussing initial attachment relationships, and how they have a hand in weaving the fabric of our being-with-others and its intertwining with our felt sense of the world. Mitchell (as cited in Reuther, 2014) notes that the residue of early attachment experiences includes “not simply cognitive working models of the interpersonal world, but affective states of undifferentiated connection with attachment figures, organized around both positive affects, like euphoria or soothing calm, and negative affects, like depression, anxiety, or terror” (p. 107). These relationally formed templates serve as a scaffolding for how one relates to others as well as to oneself, and one’s felt sense of possibility in the world. In the nascent, formative stages of their being, children are absorbed in the world of their primary caretakers (Reuther, 2014). Initially, the boundaries between child and caregiver are blended—the infant is often in arms, touched by an attentive gaze. The child learns that the world is reliable through the caregiver’s response to their needs. Once the child is old enough to begin finding their way towards individuation, the attachment serves as a safe harbor that they can return to after exploring the world. However, when a child is in the captivity of neglectful, tyrannical, or sexually and        11  physically violent caretakers, healthy attachment is disrupted, which catalyzes an array of disturbances in the child’s connection to their world. The affective disclosure of the world is frequently limited to insecurity, instability, and powerlessness (Reuther, 2014). Additionally, a lack of parental attunement to affect in the child leads to a disorganized state, where there is no relational home to hold the pain that the child experiences (Stolorow, 2011). Negative emotions that may jeopardize the caretaking relationship (e.g., anger at the caregiver) or are otherwise unrecognized or invalidated in the attachment relationship, may be dimmed out of a person’s experience of the world (Reuther, 2014). Reuther (2014) suggests that this may eventually lead to a struggle with accessing that emotion in a meaningful way in later life, or conversely causing an obtrusive flooding of that emotion. This limited mode of affective experience and disclosure may manifest in the persistent dysphoria common in complex PTSD, or indeed, any of the rigidly stereotyped affective modes of being that emerge in traumatic disorders. Within the realm of attachment theory, several theorists have proposed that siblings can serve as attachment figures (Ainsworth, 1989; Bowlby, 1980; Fraley & Tancredy, 2012), and there has been a movement in the past two decades to explore the potentially protective functions of strong sibling relationships in cases of parental abuse, neglect, and family situations rife with conflict. Though the focus is often on the impact of the parents upon children, siblings are others who dwell and grow alongside the child in the same context. When attachment to the primary caregiver is disrupted, a child’s relationship to the world may be bolstered—or further warped—by their relationship to a sibling. The sibling may serve as an other who can facilitate and validate those affective states which are unsafe to express with a caregiver. Where the parent fails as a relational home, the sibling may be able to step in and serve as a source of comfort and        12  reassurance (Weinfield et al., 2008). Strong sibling relationships may bolster mental health by providing mutual support, affirming perceptions of reality, relying on one another, and being a source of companionship in the midst of conflict or parental abuse (Foroughe & Miller, 2014). Jenkins (1992) found that children in homes with high levels of conflict, but who had close sibling relationships, were as well-adjusted as children in harmonious homes. Children in disharmonious homes without close siblings exhibited higher levels of disturbance. Inadequate parent-child bonding can result in insecure attachment patterns that lead to greater personality and emotional disturbances in adolescence and adulthood (Dozier et al., 1999), and there is often a long-term impact on psycho-social development, emotional regulation, and self-esteem (Simpson, 1990). Research indicates that where children have been exposed to intimate partner violence, self-esteem can mitigate distress—and a positive sibling relationship is linked to greater self-esteem and better mental health outcomes (Cameranesi & Piotrowski, 2018). Sibling relationships that are positive and warm with less conflict, with less differential treatment by the parents, correlate with fewer internalizing as well as externalizing symptoms (Buist et al., 2013). The value of a sibling relationship can be seen clearly in foster youth—an ongoing positive sibling relationship was shown to mediate the relationship between trauma and internalizing symptoms (Woojciak et al., 2013). Conversely, where there are high levels of aggression and hostility between siblings, there are greater behavioral and mental health problems in adolescence and adulthood, which include anxiety, difficulties in peer relationships, and issues with antisocial or delinquent behavior (Bank et al., 1996; Dunn et al., 1994; Pike et al., 2005; Snyder et al., 2005).         13  It is also important to consider how caregiver involvement shapes these sibling dynamics, either through a great deal of differential treatment or failing to manage conflict (perhaps even inciting it) between siblings. Hindle and Sherwin-White (2018) discuss some of the nuances of this, including how favoritism can fuel rivalry and strife between siblings, and can contribute to conduct disorder in the unfavored child. Inevitably, parents’ feelings towards their children will vary and have differential impact—there may be favoritism, unconscious or conscious expectations based on factors like birth order or gender, and children can even come to evoke feelings related to people in the parents’ pasts, such as a hated or loved brother or sister. According to a series of papers they cited from the Hampstead Clinic, Hindle & Sherwin-White discuss how parental pathology can have a significant impact on child development, including the child’s perception and relationship with their sibling. The shape this impact took was dependent upon “the child’s gender and birth order, and the particular role assigned to the child” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 161). In addition to this, where there is secure attachment with the parents there is typically less trouble within the sibling relationship. In a study by Hindle and Sherwin-White (2018), children were interviewed to determine how their attachment to their parents had an impact on their relationship with their sibling. The study used data from the longitudinal London Parent-Child Project (see Steele & Steele, 2005). They found that for the most part, children were concordantly attached—if one child was secure or insecure in their attachment to the parent, it was likely that their sibling would have the same attachment pattern. Interestingly, attachment concordance (whether secure or insecure) was more likely to predict warmth in the sibling relationship than was attachment security itself, which “suggests that siblings derived positive relationship with one another through a shared understanding of their        14  world, even when that understanding was problematic… that is, in the case of concordant insecurity” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 90). Where there was discordant attachment (one sibling securely attached, the other insecurely attached) they had lower quality best friendships, which seems to indicate that difficulty in the sibling relationship can translate to difficulty in other lateral relationships out in the world. The authors also make the point that security on its own doesn’t necessarily imply a warm sibling relationship—it is having both shared representations as well as secure attachment that create the greatest likelihood of warmth. For those siblings who experience insecure attachment, as in cases of insensitivity on the part of parents, an alliance between siblings can be protective and help facilitate healthier lateral relationships outside the home, despite the hardships of insecure attachments to parents.  According to Hindle and Sherwin-White (2018), most older adult siblings maintain contact, communicate, and share experiences, though this can wax or wane depending upon what is happening in their lives. This has a big impact on quality of life, with older adults with living siblings reporting higher morale. It is clear that the sibling is a significant figure in psychological life over the course of an individual’s lifespan, and the relationship has implications for general outcomes in psychological health and well-being.  Systems Theory, Sibling Roles, and Intrafamilial Strife Much of the contemporary literature on siblings falls within the theoretical framework of systems theory, which stems from Bowen’s work (Titelman, 1998). In the family systems approach, the family is comprised of several subsystems that function interactively. The sibling subsystem is thematically oriented around warmth, conflict, and differential treatment by parents (Katz & Tener, 2020). There is a great deal of recent literature on sibling subsystems and how        15  they are impacted by abuse and neglect. These subsystems can take various formations. Williams and colleagues (2016) describe several possibilities: in the ally subsystem, there is a sense of mutuality, cooperation, and care. In the defensive subsystem, there is a strict hierarchy (informed by birth order and gender), and siblings offer each other protection and support. The estranged subsystem is marked by emotional distance, indifference, avoidance, and rigid boundaries, while the enemy subsystem is characterized by bitter rivalry, conflict, hostility, and competitiveness. Lastly, the abusive sibling subsystem is characterized by sexual or physical maltreatment between siblings. Other work describes the dynamics that may emerge in these subsystems as they relate to the adults in their lives. For example, they may form an absent bond, where there is little to no mutual recognition or attachment, a bond that “locks out” all adult impact or may act out a half and half relationship where there is genuine care but they play out the maladaptive roles present with their parents (Leavitt et al., 1998). Additionally, siblings may shield one another from abuse or serve as auxiliary egos for one another (Leavitt et al., 1998). Another recent study (Witte et al., 2020) examined the ways that various sibling relationship patterns—including harmonious, hostile, emotional-intense, and distanced—are brought to bear in adverse conditions. For example, a high number of different kinds of maltreatment correlates with a hostile sibling relationship pattern, followed by those with a distanced and emotional-intense pattern. A high degree of emotional neglect is commonly found with distanced or hostile patterns between siblings, whereas a greater degree of emotional abuse is linked to hostile or emotional-intense sibling relationship patterns.  Crucially, while we may consider how a family system functions across the lateral axis, we must also understand how vertical dynamics have a deep and abiding influence upon lateral        16  relationships. Within family systems literature, issues of compensation and contamination are frequently discussed. Katz and Tener (2020) discuss compensation within abusive home environments, where siblings treat one another with protection and love which functions as a shield for physical and emotional survival. Siblings often engage in reciprocal caregiving and supportive behaviors towards one another (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). On occasion, this may result in a younger sibling benefiting from the older child’s protection, but at a cost to the older child. The older sibling may tolerate their own abuse hoping that it will help protect their sibling, which may go so far as them not disclosing their abuse unless they fear that the other sibling is being abused as well. It is common for the protective sibling to take on a sense of self-blame for not having protected them well enough (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 147). In contamination and spillover, the sibling subsystem is impacted negatively by the larger family dynamics, leading to envy, or violence and abuse that mirror parent behaviors (Katz & Tener, 2020). Sometimes, parents with characterological difficulties will catalyze conflict between their children. Parents with borderline personality disorder, for example, may use primitive defenses like splitting and projective identification in a way that undermines the sibling relationship, inducing sibling roles and conflict to gratify their own narcissistic needs and aggressive inclinations (Agger, 1988). For example, parental templates of misunderstanding can become ingrained narratives for children—if one child is said to be “difficult” while the others are unproblematic, this narrative can lodge itself into individual character as well as how siblings understand one another (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). The scapegoated child can be thought of as a recipient of the projected unacceptable parts of the self that parents cannot tolerate and must locate in someone else. It can be extremely painful for children rejected by their parents to        17  also be alienated from their siblings, and it can be quite healing for a family when a previously idealized child causes concern, reducing the amount of splitting between siblings and facilitating the withdrawal of projections from the scapegoated child (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). In other cases, where there is no hope for this kind of reconciliation, there is a need to “disentangle” from the family in order to “stop re-enacting “badness”” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 163). Where families are disrupted by divorce or separation, “siblings can be a point of reference and support, or they can be divided by conflicting loyalties” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 169). The quality of the sibling relationship and its position as either a site of comfort or conflict depends upon myriad factors, many of which are dictated by parental expectations and the different relationships and perspectives that children have with each parent. The sibling subsystem, where it functions as a site of support, be a space where adult behavior can be put to language and understood within context. Where there is violence in the home, children may be caught up within those dynamics to varying degrees (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). Where families blend, children must adapt to new patterns of relationships. The youngest child in a family may find themselves taking on a new role as a big sister or brother within the new stepfamily. There may be a mourning of the original family structure and a sense of lacking shared history with the new, which can make it difficult to create new life, tradition, and celebration (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 186). The idea that siblings develop and grow within a shared environment is multifaceted. Along with sharing parents, they also experience the same major events within the family—death, divorce, abuse and neglect, etc. However, “when siblings experience such factors        18  differentially, their internal perspectives on the world shift in accordance with their individual experiences, and their sense of cohabitating a shared environment diminishes” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 85). They may also experience these dynamics to varying degrees at different times—for example an oldest sibling may have experienced more serious abuse and neglect where younger ones may not have experienced it to the same degree. Thus, we can consider the ways in which having a “shared environment” is a nuanced, multifaceted situation affected by everything from birth order to family roles to traits. Though children may be born into the same family, they ultimately have different experiences. Part of this also has to do with the role that they take on in the family—a role which is shaped or even prescribed by the parents. Interestingly, the sibling relationship may be one arena in which there is more flexibility in terms of role—in comparing the kinds of play that occurred between children and their mother versus their siblings, it was in play with siblings that they took on a different role identity (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018).  One model for understanding sibling relationships is proposed by Kriss and colleagues (2018) and argues for a need to “use as its axes internal models of others, derived chiefly from early parent-child interaction, and internal modes of the self-derived, in large part, from how the child comes to understand himself in light of his sibling” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 91). There are several possible categories described in this model. The first, bonded, or concordant familiar, is characterized by a shared understanding of both the family environment and the larger world. The sibling is also seen as a figure that is understandable and relatable, and a sense of similarity prevails. The second type is competitive. This category can be described as discordant and familiar, in the sense that while the siblings have a sense of familiarity, they differ        19  in how they see their family and the greater world. Often, there is differential treatment on the part of parents that leads to rivalry. The third category, concordant unfamiliar, is characterized by a shared sense of the environment but an inability to see any similarity between themselves and their sibling. A lack of connection and a sense of real or imagined difference can create a sense of alienation, and even sadness or longing at the lost potential of connection. Finally, the hostile category, or discordant unfamiliar, occurs where there is no shared conceptualization of the world, family, or sense of self. In this category, early issues between siblings was not resolved, and the sibling may serve as a hostile, violent figure. Conflict and abuse are frequently present.  The place that each sibling takes in the abusive family system has an impact on how they may develop post traumatic symptoms, and stressful events can have a differing impact due to personality, age, or differences in terms of expectations (Dunn & Plomin, 1990). For example, in one case study (Balch & Golub, 2020) involving a five-year-old girl and a three-year-old boy, the boy had been severely abused by the father while the girl was made to watch and keep silent. Each demonstrated the impact of their unique experiences within a shared context of abuse through play therapy—where the boy immediately reenacted the abuse in aggressive play before moving into a gentler phase that focused on caretaking, the girl was preoccupied with themes of nurturance and anxieties around control before being able to express darker themes in painting. Gender, birth order, and the individual experiences they had within a shared context are implied as salient factors in the structure of symptomology. Some literature demonstrates that older siblings manifest significantly more trauma symptoms than younger siblings after exposure to intimate partner violence (Stuart-Tufescu & Piotrowski, 2013). Additionally, maternal stress and        20  quality of mother-child relationships—particularly where negative interactions occurred between mother and younger child—had significant correlations to worsened trauma symptomatology (Stuart-Tufescu & Piotrowski, 2013). The Sibling and Identity Formation Psychoanalysis, phenomenology, and family systems theory can be dialogued together in terms of how they attend to the sibling relationship and its impact on identity formation. Attention to these theoretical intersections and tensions can offer a multifaceted vision attuned to complexity and varied potentialities emergent in this topic. Siblings have a significant place in psychological life, and their presence has an impact on the individual experience of abuse and neglect within the family. Beyond serving as possible attachment figures and significant others with whom a child can structure their experience of the world, they are also significant to identity formation. Our identities are formed and negotiated within a relational embeddedness that guides our understanding of self—siblings can be considered as taking a unique place in this process, particularly when the impact of trauma is considered.  According to Hindle and Sherwin-White (2018), a child “learns who he is and who he is not through ongoing comparison with the sibling, selectively imitating, contradicting, or avoiding the other as circumstances demand” (p. 83). Mitchell (2013) agrees, citing how part of how we become who we are is through mimetic identification with others. Initial identifications with siblings are therefore an essential part of development of the self, along with identifications with parents and other older adults and children. However, the competing need for differentiation is also of note. Over-closeness can inhibit the formulation of a separate identity and make individuality particularly difficult. In adolescence, new issues may arise around separation from        21  the parents, maturation, a push towards the development of identity and individuation, puberty, questions about sexual identity, etc. There may also be a reemergence of previous issues or trauma. At this stage, parents may also feel envious of their children’s opportunities, and push their own adolescent strivings onto their children.   Vivona (2010) has done some illuminating work around the roles of siblings in the inner world of the individual, with a focus on identity development. With the presence of the sibling, there is a struggle to regain one’s uniqueness within the family, and this inspires development along the lateral dimension of psychological life. This has implications for the child’s ability to find a place of worth among similar others of the world (Vivona, 2010). The child will ask themselves how they are positioned among their siblings, where their place is in the family, and in the larger world. These questions are often mitigated by the functional roles that the child steps into depending upon the unique family dynamics at play and how their sibling is positioned. For example, in a situation where there is abuse, if the older sibling is the “protector,” the younger sibling may fit into a functional role as the “one who needs protecting.” The sibling therefore leaves their mark on identity within the framework and demands of the family. Family systems theory also aligns with Vivona’s thinking on functioning positions as part of identity formation in relation to siblings. Similar examples of functional roles are included in family systems literature, including the scapegoat, the golden child, the leader, the sick one, the funny one, and others (Titelman, 1998). These positions allow the siblings to function within the family and enable certain kinds of participation, even, perhaps, when the system itself is warped by abuse and neglect. When there is neglect and abuse within the family system, identity formation is influenced by the roles that are taken on in service of survival. While this may serve to protect        22  the child and help them find their place in a dysfunctional system, it has implications for mental health outcomes. What was often an adaptive response to a traumatizing situation in childhood may develop into a pattern of identity that poses mental health risks and interpersonal limitations in adulthood.  Vivona (2010) goes on to discuss how development necessitates both identification with important others, which inspires a taking on of their attributes, as well as differentiation, which involves the strengthening of certain qualities and desires that amplify difference. In a typical family system, children often will identify with a parent and engage in differentiation as a strategy to relieve the conflicts of sibling rivalry. This allows them to carve out a unique territory in the lateral realm of identity within the family. Similar to arguments made by Mitchell (2003) and Vivona (2010), systems theory literature discusses the importance of differentiation as necessary to the development of psychological life. Gender constellation and birth order may have an impact here, as same-sex siblings are more influential in identification than opposite sex siblings (Wong et al., 2010). Likewise, differentiation is found to be higher in same sex siblings compared to opposite sex siblings. Later born siblings are more likely to identify with earlier-born siblings behavior, possibly because earlier-born siblings are higher in status. Differentiation is mostly observed among people who have younger siblings. When siblings are close in age, there is observation of more differentiation as well (Wong et al., 2010). A severe lack of differentiation where there is engulfment or a general lack of respect for autonomy can result in abuse, neglect, and incest (Titelman, 1998). Trauma can therefore deny the sense of being able to take a lateral place in the family that allows for both healthy identification and differentiation,        23  and this may be further shaped by the system formations and functional roles particular to a given family’s dynamics.  In furthering the discussion of the sibling’s relevance to the development of subjectivity and intersubjectivity, Vivona (2010) discusses Jessica Benjamin’s concept of recognition, which is “the accurate perception and acceptance of the other as a subject who exists independently of the self, outside its fantasies and projections” (Vivona, 2010, p. 70). For one’s identity to be felt as stable, acceptable, and valid, the other must accept the proposed identity, desires, qualities, feelings, etc.—whether they establish difference or similarity. Genuine interpersonal connection requires an acceptance by the other of sameness as well as difference if the individual is to feel whole within the relationship. In situations where this fails to occur, in pure complementarity for example, one “relates to the other as parts of the self” and the other takes on a role within a binary (Vivona, 2010, p. 71). Possible binaries include aggressor and aggressed upon, victim and protector, etc. This binary structure undermines the possibility of genuine connection, which is fueled by a recognition and acceptance of both sameness and difference. Abuse and neglect may disrupt the processes of identification and differentiation, and therefore recognition.  In typical development, the child recognizes the mother (or sibling) as a separate subject with her own desires and autonomy. There must be a process of negotiation of difference that allows for the development of an “our way” rather than a “my way.” This echoes Emde’s (1988) claim that siblings may be particularly important for the development of the “we” ego. According to Emde, by the time children are three years old they have developed a sense of the “we,” which allows the child an increased sense of power and control and invites them into a world of shared meanings with others. Emotional and physical abuse serve to undermine the        24  autonomy of the child, threaten engulfment and destruction, and destroy the capacity for meaning making. The sibling may be a component of the relational field that allows for the experience of differentiation and autonomy as well as the “we” ego; or they may further exacerbate the damage caused by an antagonistic developmental context—in either case, the importance of the sibling is not to be underestimated. According to Vivona (2010), recognition also bolsters one’s tolerance for multiplicity within the self, as there is an acceptance of the varied forms of self-expression that occur across relational contexts. This allows for individuals to own the various parts of themselves while still accepting that no single part can contain all that one is. In this way, recognition by the other facilitates the process of knowing and owning one’s self. According to Merleau-Ponty (1945/2004) “there is no ‘inner’ life that is not a first attempt to relate to another person” (p. 88). He explains that we believe what is internally recognizable as true, and “…at the same time, nobody thinks or makes up his mind without already being caught up in certain relationships with others, which leads him to opt for a particular set of opinions” (p. 87). The work of identity formation is a task that extends through adolescence and into emerging adulthood, and siblings may have a particularly important place in this process (Erikson, 1968). Whether or not the sibling recognizes these attempts at identity formation can have a hand in whether the child can feel known and loved (Vivona, 2010). This is particularly important when we consider family systems where abuse and neglect are present. For Vivona (2010), recognition by the sibling functions as “an acknowledgment as well as an invitation. It implies that one can move into a particular position or role, that one can be a certain kind of person” (p. 81). Trauma has the tendency to fragment identity, memory, and one’s felt sense of possibility within the world.        25  Thus, where the vertical relational axis fails to provide support, the lateral relational axis may offer some hope for the child’s developing world. If this identity, or indeed one’s personal trauma story, is not recognized by the lateral other, the one who occupies a space of minimal but consequential difference, it may lead to an expectation of non-recognition by peers later in life, and further stunt the horizon of possibility. In psychoanalytic theory (Vivona, 2010), the vertical axis is the domain where recognition by parents allows for autonomous initiative over one’s desires—parents shape what is desired and in what ways. Siblings, on the horizontal axis, have authority over the space taken up in the lateral world of others in terms of identity. There is some literature demonstrating that sibling relationship quality is positively related to the level of exploration in the relational domain—which gestures, once more, towards the sibling’s place in shaping how we navigate the social world (Wong et al., 2010). To ignore the lateral dimension of development is to miss a significant force in the formation of identity, particularly when we consider risk versus protective factors in developmental trauma. Considering the literature on sibling roles and identity in abusive families, there are gaps of knowledge around how those roles are perceived by abuse and/or neglect survivors in adulthood, and how this has an impact on their sense of identity, what happened to them, and the current sibling relationship. This is an area that this project aims to elucidate more fully. Anticipating Culture & Diversity The sibling is a universal figure—even where there is an only child, there is still often the imagined and longed for sibling (Mitchell, 2013). Along with this universality and the similarity of developmental challenges, the differential impact of culture must be accounted for. This        26  necessitates an idiographic perspective that accounts for the unique factors that intersect to affect individual experience. There are “differing societal and parental expectations, family patterns, and child rearing practices throughout the world. Different cultures favor dissimilar traits and behaviors and have different expectations of sibling roles and relationships” (Edward, 2011, p. 40). Issues of autonomy, competition, and sibling responsibilities are also culturally defined, as well as values around appearance and intellect that may have a hand in how parents do or don’t favor individual children within a family system (Edward, 2011). Sibling relationships will be shaped differently depending on how birth order and gender affect sibling roles and expectations. Race is also a factor. In the United States, for example, a lighter skinned sibling in a family of color may receive more opportunities, which may in turn affect sibling relationships (Edward, 2011). Systemic racism also has an impact on the kinds of experiences that siblings may have of themselves and each other within the family system as well as out in the larger community and beyond. Issues of power need to be included in considering how sibling relationships are understood because the culture that they live in may afford them differing levels of privilege depending upon how they are positioned.  At this point, fewer than half of the children in the United States live in traditional nuclear families. Divorce, single parenthood, the death of a parent, step and half siblings, and LGBTQ family members are all possible points of diversity in family structure (Edward, 2011). Beyond these, we might also think about how the presence of physical or intellectual disability can change family dynamics. Religion is also relevant as a cultural factor. In some cases, it may serve as a protective factor, in others it may function to facilitate trauma. The literature on religious trauma is growing, with a burgeoning understanding of the ways that it may take place        27  not only at the hands of religious leaders, but as generated by the way that religious doctrine is taken up within family systems. When toxic religious doctrine functions to create a culture of shame and hermeneutical injustice, where oppressive systems prevent knowledge and undercut agency (Downie, 2022). The number of possible points of diversity in any given family, and therefore sibling relationship, are seemingly endless. These possibilities can all contribute to the ways that individuals react to traumatic developmental experiences and how they understand the place of the sibling within that reaction. There is an argument that trauma and its recollection are “governed by social contexts and cultural models for memories, narratives, and life stories” (Kirmayer, 1996, p. 191). What is speakable versus unspeakable, what meaning the traumatic event takes on, and how it is processed are all dependent upon cultural norms and expectations. Culture was therefore another arena for exploration as a defining element of narrative, sense of self, and sense of other in the experience of developmental trauma.  The Place of Narrative in Psychological Life We come to know ourselves and understand others and the world through stories. McAdams (1993) argues that the stories of our lives contain the same elements that we see in fictional stories. There are main characters, major themes, and general structures that include a setting, an initiating event, responses to events, consequences to those responses, and reactions to consequences. Our stories also tend to flow in similar patterns, where tension builds and reaches a climax before reaching a denouement, and eventually a return home. In terms of story form, there are four typical categories: comedy, romance, tragedy, and irony. In comedies, there is often a celebration of domestic love, with a main message that “we are each given the opportunity to achieve happiness and to avoid pain and guilt in life” (McAdams, 1993, p. 51). In        28  romances, optimism also reigns, and there is a celebration of excitement in adventure and conquering challenges. The protagonist’s ultimate goal is to emerge from these adventures not only victorious but enlightened by new wisdom. In tragedies, there is a pessimistic tone that evokes a sense of decline. The glory of the past is reduced to a fall from grace, and there may be a sacrifice of the self or acceptance of isolation. The natural order of things has disintegrated in some way, and in personal myths with this structure the hero is “exalted, but in this instance as an extraordinary victim and not an adventurous hero” (McAdams, 1993, p. 52). The main message is a confrontation with inescapable absurdity, and the intertwining of pain and pleasure in life. Finally, in stories of irony, chaos triumphs. The hero fails to solve the mysteries of life, the tone is pessimistic, and the story is plagued by confusion and sadness. As in comedy, the protagonist is common rather than exalted, and the message we encounter is less than reassuring-- “ambiguities in life are larger than we are, and for the most part beyond our comprehension” (McAdams, 1993, p. 52). Whatever their form, these tales of human striving, our stories of ourselves, help us to “organize our thoughts, providing narrative for human intentions and interpersonal events… in some instances, stories may also mend us when we are broken, heal us when we are sick and even move us toward psychological fulfillment and maturity” (McAdams, 1993, p. 31). These stories are less about facts and more about meanings, with the narrative mode primarily concerning itself with human wants, needs, and goals. They are the domain of human intention, personal truth, values, and identity. In examining what lenses or formats of story that we see people choose, we can understand something about the self—even if the story frames that reality as coming from the outside.         29  In addition to making sense of one’s individual history, narratives connect us to the collective stories and myths of our society and culture as a whole. These “generativity scripts” as McAdams (1993) calls them, help ground us within a historical tide of meanings. We are a part of something much larger than just ourselves, even with the uniqueness of our individual narratives. For example, modern Western narratives often follow a pattern of early family life, growth and expansion in childhood and early adulthood, followed by a taking stock of how current issues relate to past conflicts, and an integration of epiphanies and turning points that serve as markers of change in the individual’s story—there is a general discourse of progress and decline (McAdams, 2005). These stories will also demonstrate those gender, race, and class constructions that are alive in any given society, demonstrating those “prevailing patterns of hegemony in the economic, political, and cultural contexts wherein human lives are situated” (McAdams, 2005, p. 250).  McAdams (1993) explores the ways that these personal narratives develop and cites attachment as having a crucial impact on the development of our personal stories. Our early relationships with our primary attachment figures can help configure an overall narrative tone of pessimism, mistrust, and resignation, or optimism and hope, and can define our motivational patterns. According to McAdams (1993) “the first two years of life leave us with a set of unconscious and nonverbal attitudes about self, other, and world, and about how the three relate to each other” (p. 47). Our sense of security in the world and a reasonably firm internal locus of control tend to help us face adversity and cope with the inevitable challenges of life. He goes on to describe the narrative elements of the coping process, wherein the individual seeks to understand why the crisis occurred and its impact, makes personal meaning through story, and        30  then finally can successfully adapt by gaining a feeling of mastery and managing what has happened.  The imagery and themes that are found in stories reflects the culture in which we are embedded, which is instilled in us through family as well as our encounters out in the broader world outside the home (McAdams, 1993). Story themes are defined as “a recurrent pattern of human intention” (McAdams, 1993, p. 67). Power and love emerge as the two greatest themes in stories, as they relate to the two most central psychological motivations in human life, which exist in tension with each other—to be autonomous agents in the world, and to connect and merge with others. McAdams (1993) cites Bachan in his discussion of agency and communion as two fundamental modalities in existence, representing both the individual need to separate from others, master the environment, assert, protect, an expand the self.  In contrast, communion enables the individual to participate in something larger than the self and “relating to other selves in warm, close, intimate, and loving ways” (McAdams, 1993, p. 71). Identity is another crucial element for consideration in the realm of narrative. It can become a problem in life when the individual notices incongruencies in the self, when one is, for example, one way at work and another way at home (McAdams, 1993). We also find ourselves positioned differently from personal and social perspectives, where we find ourselves wrestling either with our own personal orientation in moral space versus external societal expectations. Our ideologies serve as a ground upon which we build our identity as we answer questions for ourselves about our own moral structure, political leanings, spiritual beliefs, and more, with all of these also constructed within a social milieu. We must manage the ambiguities and incongruencies that arise in our narratives and find our place as an individual both similar to and        31  different from those around us. We must take on different roles or characters depending upon what context demands. McAdams (1993) discusses these as imagoes which express our desires and values, possible selves encapsulating our wants, fears, and fantasies of greatness or utter failure. These structures come to being and sometimes die within the narratives we construct. Despite the demand of multiplicity in modern life, these still must be subsumed into a larger and more meaningfully patterned self. Imagoes are built from the templates of important others in our lives—parents, teachers, siblings, friends, etc. These personalities are internalized and structure our unconscious minds. Indeed, Raggatt (2006) insists upon the multiplicity of narrative, and the idea that there is no singular life story or definitive account, and that “there is multiplicity, conflict, and even contradiction in the structure of the self, including the storied self” (p. 17). Our identities and our lives are shaped by both human agency and social structures, and are characterized by multiplicity—thus, so are our narratives (McAdams, 2005).   McAdams (2005) also describes several other common elements of stories, including key scenes, or self-defining memories that are very vivid and affectively charged. These key memories contain something important to the core of an individual’s hopes, fears, and conflicts, and express an aspect of identity. In addition to these, there may be redemption sequences, where a bad or affectively negative scene turns good, or contamination sequences where a positive scene is transformed to something negative. Often, these sequences point towards a depressive orientation to the world, whereas redemption sequences are predictors of well-being even when the story itself is not inherently positive.           32  The Trauma Narrative and the Sibling Trauma studies first developed in the 1990s with Caruth (1996) as a pioneer and were heavily influenced by Freud. Trauma was understood as extreme experience that pushed the individual beyond the capacity for symbolic representation of experience, led to dissociation and compulsive repetition of the trauma, and ruptured meaning. It has also been described as a violent breaking through of protective boundaries that completely overwhelms the ability to process. Breach of mind and/or body leaves a wound or gap within, which is then filled by an imitation or repetition of the trauma itself (Mitchell, 2003). Pluralistic models would later challenge the idea that the unspeakability of trauma is an issue of trauma’s dissociative impact on consciousness and memory alone, but also is an issue of culture and diverse narrative expression (Mambrol, 2018). As the study of trauma has developed over time, there has been more attention paid not only to individual experience, but also the impact of culture and diversity in the formation of experience and understanding of trauma.  A focal realm of interest for this project is the trauma narrative and how the sibling is both a part of and responds to that narrative. Bowlby’s (1980) conceptualization of the sibling’s purpose in psychological life centers upon the mutual holding of a family narrative across time, and the sibling relationship can be disrupted when that shared family history is lost. Given the importance of the sibling in the development of the self, there is a lack of research around how shared histories of familial abuse and neglect are navigated through speech or avoided in silence within the sibling subsystem. This also leaves open the question of how this has an impact on the felt sense of a cohesive self as embedded within a larger interpersonal history.         33  The issues of memory and language live at the intersection between trauma and narrative. Traumatic memory, unlike memory in general, is resistant to assimilation into ongoing life narrative. According to Brison (1999), the self is undone in trauma, which creates a radical disruption of memory and “a severing of past from present and, typically, an inability to envision a future” (p. 39). We may ask, then, what the place of the sibling may be when it comes to memories of abuse—how does this lateral other hold memories of trauma alongside (or instead of) their sibling? There is some evidence to show that in therapy, children will sometimes share memories of abuse or neglect that had happened to one of their siblings and not to them directly, which can be understood as a self-protective measure (Foroughe & Miller, 2014). It is possible too, that where trauma has obliterated the memory of one sibling, the other is still able to reconstruct those difficult experiences. According to Hindle and Sherwin-White (2018), where there is abuse or neglect, siblings can be crucial carriers of memory, helping to relieve distortion and validate a history that may become murky with the effects of trauma. For example, a sibling can help “note the distortion between one parent’s view of the other based on past personal memory, with what they perceive and experience in the present, and by doing so, help another sibling develop a more robust contemporary relationship, uncluttered by a former framework” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 188). Ultimately siblings can be crucial in developing an understanding of traumas. While they suffer these events together, they have differing perspectives, and sharing those experiences can allow them to understand each other’s feelings and responses as well as their own. Having a sense of a shared history can be protective, just as much as it can be a reminder of difficult circumstances. Little is known about how this may take shape in adulthood, or what impact these differences in memory have on the sibling relationship.         34  Trauma is resistant to language—it is instead reliant upon and integrated with vivid sensation and images (Caruth, 1996; Herman, 1992). In the context of family abuse and neglect, trauma may not only obfuscate narrative by obliterating memory, but also creates conditions that enact a foreclosure of speech. In his discussion of Heidegger’s position on speech, Gendlin (1978) states that “speech is always already involved… in any human experience… Hearing the other, being open to each other’s speech, is part of what we are, the living we are… it is always already involved in our living, whatever we may then actually say or not say” (p. 45). Traumatic experience, therefore, defies active engagement with one of the most basic fundamentals of our being, the involvement of linguistic process in our being-in-the-world, and our being-with-others as partly defined by speech. If there is no linguistic home for the terror that emerges with trauma, the survivor remains trapped in time, with no ongoing relational narrative to make meaning of their experience. The sibling is possibly a crucial lateral other involved in the creation or decay of this linguistic home.  Several thinkers have contributed to our understanding of the place of narrative in trauma, particularly as it relates trauma narratives as necessarily relational. Judith Herman (1992) discusses how reconstructing the story of the trauma “actually transforms the traumatic memory, so that it can be integrated into the survivor’s life story” (p. 175). In this process of telling the narrative, there is also a “systematic review of the meaning of the event, both to the patient and to the important people in her life” (Herman, 1992, p. 178) and that occasionally the survivor must withstand rejection from those who would be most important in validating the narrative. The sibling is of particular interest in this process as a lateral other who lived in the same household where the abuse occurred and likely experienced abuse as well. This links back to the        35  earlier discussion of recognition by the lateral other as a foundational component of identity formation. Whether the sibling confirms the survivor’s perspective on their shared family history may have a significant impact on whether the survivor feels they have agency and ownership over their story, and whether or not it feels possible that others along the lateral axis of their lives will accept them. There is little to no research on this issue. In Sipiora’s (2008) discussion of Ricouer’s formulation of narrative identity, he describes selfhood as “culminating in the conclusion that one is a self as one self among other selves, something that can only be attested through personal testimony or the testimony of others” (p. 141). Selfhood is thus tied to a felt sense of belief, and recognition in the relational field. The process of constructing a narrative identity also involves the interpretation of the self through the characters given in the plot, including the sibling. In creating a personal narrative, we can arrange the events of our lives into a kind of “discordant concordance” that addresses trauma and pain by making them intelligible within a larger meaningful life narrative (Sipiora, 2008). McAdams’ (1993) work on narrative brings the perspective that we are the narratives we live by, and suggests that truth and meaning take shape around the personal myths we create for ourselves. He describes how these stories are ever evolving, created through a selective reconstruction of past and imagined future, towards a sense of self defined by unity, moral purpose, and temporal coherence (McAdams, 2019). It is through narrative that one may initially begin to make sense of the senselessness of traumatic experience.  The significance of narrative and testimony can be connected to Brison’s (1999) work on trauma and the self. She suggests that how traumatic events are remembered depends not only on how they are initially experienced but also how or whether they are perceived by others, directly        36  or indirectly, and the extent to which others can listen to the survivor’s testimony. This testimony is a “speech act of memory” which, when witnessed by others, can aid in the remaking of the fundamentally relational self after it has been undone by violence (Brison, 1999). Control over the narrative can lead to greater control over the memories themselves, thus making them less intrusive and more integrated into a larger life narrative which can make room for a possible future that was previously foreclosed. Once more, we can consider how the sibling’s recognition of the trauma narrative may bolster or undermine mental health outcomes, depending upon how perceptions of mutual family history either weave together harmoniously or create discord. Research Questions A primary question raised by this study concerns the place of the sibling in the trauma narrative, and how this interacts with and has an impact on the sense of self of the teller. The sibling has an important place in psychological life, despite often being overshadowed by the role of the parents. Siblings serve as lateral others with whom one shares family history and alongside whom one forms a sense of identity. They can provide a sense of safety, reassurance, and secure attachment, or they can further exacerbate the psychological and emotional damage done in abusive family systems. They are others that serve as a source of positive identification and differentiation, a relational scaffolding for the development of the self. They can also contribute to the validation of identity through recognition.  In the context of developmental traumas like abuse and neglect, narrative and identity are fragmented. While there is some research on siblings serving as a source of resilience (or amplifying the damage) of an abusive developmental context, there is little to describe how this is taken up within the narratives of abuse survivors, particularly in adulthood. I am interested in        37  how the sibling is framed and understood within the trauma narrative, how they occupy space and act as important figures in psychological life during and after developmental trauma. Additionally, this study seeks to address how the sibling mediates sense of self in these tumultuous contexts.  The sibling is an other that carries family history alongside the individual. Sibling survivors of abuse and neglect share a common context, common memories, yet they hold different positions within the family system, and therefore hold that narrative history differently. The differences and similarities in the trauma narrative, engendered by circumstance for each sibling, may have an impact not only on the sibling relationship itself, but also individual conceptualizations of identity and what meaning can be made of the traumatic history. There is little research on this topic, despite its apparent clinical importance. Thus, I am also interested in the way the narrative is held by each sibling, according to the narrator—for example, does the narrator sense that there is narrative congruence with their sibling, that they have the same understanding of their experience of abuse? What is the impact of narrative congruence or incongruence on the narrator and their understanding of their own story, and on the sibling relationship? These questions were addressed using qualitative interview material from a single sibling narrator, which was then interpreted using narrative analysis. The hope is that this study will contribute valuable information to our understanding of the sibling as a figure in psychological life, particularly relevant to the survival of developmental trauma.           38  Chapter 2: Method Narrative Inquiry Narrative inquiry can be traced back to Freud, Piaget, Allport, and Erikson—though they were not self-defined narrative researchers (Wertz et al., 2011). Many contemporary narrative researchers are influenced by Jerome Bruner, Ted Sarbin, and Don Polkinghorne, with deeper epistemological roots connected to Dilthey, Husserl, and Heidegger (Wertz et al., 2011). Wertz and colleagues (2011) note that Bruner’s writings frame narratives as the “building blocks of the construction of reality and meaning” (p. 65). Narratives can therefore be considered an integral means by which we create a sense of the world and our place in it. Specifically, interpretation through narrative is an essential aspect of our humanity—it is a process that allows us to make meaning and order in our lives. Josselson (2004) argues that narrative is more than just the material facts of a life—it is the meaningful shape that emerges from the selected inner and outer experiences of the individual. Some argue that personal narratives, their content and form, are people’s identities in the sense that stories function to present an inner reality to the outside world while also constructing the individual’s personality and reality (Lieblich et al., 1998).  Personal narratives move beyond a simple static retelling of events—there are also evaluations and perspectives given on self, other, and world (Bohanek et al., 2006). According to Bohanek and colleagues (2006) “narratives are the way through which we create meaning of our personal and shared past and are linked to understanding of self as an individual and in relation to others” (p. 39). It is impossible to separate narrative from the relational field—not only are our narratives brimming with relational material, but the stories and our sense of self are molded by how they are received in the relational arena. The impact of this is clear in one study which        39  found that where families negotiate meaning, validate each other’s perspectives, and collaborate to create a shared perspective result in higher self-esteem and self-efficacy in children (Bohanek et al., 2006). Also, it is of note that these narratives are not understood as concretizing or static—they are always in flux. Any given story is a single snapshot of a moment in time. Polkinghorne stresses the importance of the self as story, and the need to constantly revise our stories as things evolve, new events and characters emerge, and we grow and change (Wertz et al., 2011). Hiles and Cermák (2008) state that our narrative intelligence helps us to choose what is important to us, and that we participate in the construction of our identities and positions through narrative. Narrative process has also been linked to trauma and recovery from trauma. As previously mentioned, Herman (1992) has shown the significance of narratives as a means to integrate a traumatic experience or experiences into a larger life story, thereby making it intelligible. Brison’s (1990) work on trauma and the self suggests that the trauma narrative, when witnessed and received by others, can aid in the remaking of the relational self. Narrative inquiry is well-suited to this study because it allows for the exploration of how people construct and make meaning of themselves and their lives within context. Additionally, it makes room to address how people make sense of their experiences of trauma through narrative, and how those meanings are shaped by significant others.  Life stories are created in interpretative and constructive ways. According to Lieblich, Tuval-Mashiach, and Zilber (1998), one of the clearest channels to the inner world of human experience is through verbal accounts and stories that individuals present. Absolute truth is evasive, and there are many ways to read and interpret a text. The narrative approach, then, is appreciative of pluralism, relativism, and subjectivity as essential aspects of narrative process.        40  Lieblich, Tuval-Mashiach, and Zilber (1998) encourage taking a “middle path” in understanding the place of narrative—it cannot be taken with a pure relativism that sees the story as a fiction, nor can such narratives be considered completely accurate representations of reality. For them, “stories are usually constructed around a core of facts or life events yet allow a wide periphery for the freedom of individuality and creativity in selection, addition to, emphasis on, and interpretation of the ‘remembered facts’” (Lieblich et al., 1998, p. 8). Moreover, “by studying and interpretive self-narratives, the researcher can access not only the individual identity and its systems of meaning but also the teller’s culture and social world” (Lieblich et al., 1998, p. 9). Our embeddedness in culture is also visible in the stories we tell and the shapes they take. Thus, narrative research accounts for how “people’s narratives reflect not only their own meaning-making but the themes of the society or culture in which they live” (Josselson et al., 2003, p. 8). The process of interpretation in the hermeneutic tradition invites us to consider how understanding involves reference to what is already known and is therefore constituted within a horizon that is determined by both the context and the interpreter (Gergen, 1988). It is therefore essential to consider how the text, and its interpreter, are embedded within a larger world that shape their experience and interpretation. Additionally, it is impossible to perfectly capture and represent the experience of another; we are always beholden to the idiosyncrasies of interpretation. It is for this reason that Gergen (1988) urges us to pursue interpretive efforts not with the intent to get to the core of the original experience, but rather an openness towards the world that unfolds and is disclosed in the “text.”  Josselson (2004) further discusses the field of narrative psychology and its assumption that life stories are created “in an interpretive and constructive way” (p. 2). She goes on to describe        41  how in narrative studies, the data consist of phenomenological accounts from the people participating in the study, and “the epistemological praxis relies on hermeneutics, a disciplined form of moving from text to meaning” (Josselson, 2004, p. 3). This means that while the person is interpreting their experience and constructing their narrative, “the researchers’ task is hermeneutic and reconstructive” and serves to offer a telling of the story at a “different level of discourse” (p. 3). For Josselson, it is essential to understand the interpretive stance that is taken. She discusses Ricoeur’s formulation of two different stances, one position aims at restoration, the other demystification. In adopting a hermeneutic of faith, the researcher assumes that the participants are expressing their subjective experience and meaning making to the best of their ability, and the aim is “to try to understand the Other as they understand themselves” (Josselson, 2004, p. 6). Additionally, this hermeneutics of faith, or restoration, usually means moving beyond description towards a constellation of meanings and their connections to more abstract issues.  A hermeneutic of suspicion, or demystification, is instead grounded in the idea that experience is not “transparent to itself: a told story conceals an untold one” (Josselson, 2004, p. 13). There is more meaning below the surface of what is readily available in a given narrative utterance. This attends to the idea that experience is often concealed because of cultural and contextual constraints that are foundational and therefore “not (usually) available to conscious experience” (Josselson, 2004, p. 14). While it is possible to create a dialectic between these two positions, it can be challenging. This study tends towards a hermeneutics of restoration or faith, though there are elements of a hermeneutic of demystification. While my main concern was to stay as close to the participants’ understanding as possible, I also found myself listening to other        42  possible voices or levels of interpretation, inviting a “focus on both what is said and what is not said, on both what meanings are intended and possible unintended ones” (Josselson, 2004, p. 23). Recruitment, Eligibility, Consent, and Confidentiality The recruitment process began with dissemination of recruitment materials. The materials— a Qualtrics eligibility survey (see Appendix A), a subreddit post (see Appendix B), flyers (see Appendix C) and pamphlets (see Appendix D)—all briefly described the study, had my contact information, and gave details about eligibility. Potential participants were considered eligible if they were adult (18 years of age or older) survivors of childhood abuse and/or neglect who had siblings who were in the home at the time of the abuse for at least a year. I defined “sibling” loosely in this study in the sense that half siblings, step siblings, and adopted siblings all counted for eligibility. In other words, any lateral other who the participant lived with as a sibling fell within the parameters of the study—it was the nature of the relationship that was important, not the genetic category. I defined abuse as physical, sexual, and/or emotional violence and maltreatment. I defined neglect as including situations where the child/children were at risk of harm due to a marked lack of parental care.   The exclusion criteria described in the recruitment materials included active psychosis and active suicidality where there was intent, plan, means, and lack of support—passive suicidality did not lead to exclusion where the potential participant was in therapy. Inclusion criteria included active engagement in therapy and the presence of an adequate support system such as a friend or family member(s) on whom they could rely should participation in the study be unduly triggering. Another expectation was that participants had already disclosed their experience of abuse to someone prior to the interview.         43  All the recruitment materials included a link to the Qualtrics survey which helped determine initial eligibility by asking questions geared towards the inclusion and exclusion criteria. The survey produced a list of responses and contact information, which I then categorized in terms of eligibility. I chose eligible participants at random from the list and then sent an email (see Appendix E) or called by phone with a list of possible times for an interview via Zoom and a request for disclosure of their state of residence. Upon their response, I emailed them a copy of the consent form (see Appendix I), information about mandated reporting for Pennsylvania as well as their state of residence (Appendix I), and confirmation of their interview time via Zoom. All eight participants were contacted through their response to the Qualtrics survey. Six participants found the Qualtrics link through the subreddit, one through the Duquesne University Psychology Clinic, and one through the Duquesne University Counseling Center. At the start of our scheduled Zoom interview, I gave a brief introduction of the study and my background and asked the potential participant if they had any questions. A second stage of assessment then occurred right before the interview and included an evaluation of suicidality and psychosis using the Columbia Suicide Severity Risk Scale (C-SSRS) (The Columbia Lighthouse Project, 2016) (see Appendix G) which assesses severity and immediacy of suicide risk, and the 16-item version of the prodromal questionnaire (PQ-16) (Ising et al., 2012) (see Appendix H), which rates the severity of positive and negative symptoms of psychosis. Eligible participants scored at low risk for suicide with any wish to die unaccompanied by plan, intent, or behavior, and any suicidal ideation more than one month in the past without plan, intent, or behavior. Participants who scored at medium risk who had suicidal ideation without plan, intent or        44  behavior in the past month were also eligible, but required further assessment of protective factors such as family support, identified reasons to live, current therapeutic treatment, etc. Eligible participants scored 58 or lower on the PQ-16, as this corresponds to mild negative and positive symptomology (Leucht et al., 2015). Participants at high risk for suicide would have been inappropriate for the study due to the possibility of increased distress in an already distressed individual, thereby possibly amplifying already present risk. Similarly, because discussing trauma may cause significant distress, individuals who exhibited symptoms of psychosis were inappropriate due to the risk of destabilization. For those potential participants who scored too high on these measures, I thanked them for their interest and gave mental health resources including crisis lines and counseling centers. After establishing full eligibility, I discussed the consent form (see Appendix I), including information about confidentiality, the research question, study procedure and intent, and the risks and benefits of participation. I also discussed my position as a mandated reporter and described my responsibility to report any suspected child abuse, elder abuse, or intent to harm self or others that the participant disclosed. This discussion was detailed and thorough, particular to the participant’s state, and outlined possible scenarios that would require reporting, including situations where their abuser was still alive and possibly a risk to children now, even if the participant themselves no longer had contact. I also briefly discussed the process of mandated reporting with the participant and gave more detailed information as part of the consent form. I encouraged participants to ask questions during our meeting or reach out after the interview. Before beginning the interview, I encouraged participants to choose a pseudonym. In most cases they asked me to choose for them. I also informed them of their ability to withdraw from the        45  study at any time. Eight individuals participated in the study: five women (identified as having she/her pronouns), two men (identified as having he/him pronouns), and one nonbinary individual (identified as having he/they pronouns). Of these eight, five participated in the follow up member-check interview.  Interviews  Interviews were in depth and semi-structured, to provide both enough scaffolding to guide the interview experience and enough freedom to allow participants to tell their narratives in an organic way (see Appendix J for interview guide). Participants were given the following prompt: “Let’s start by getting a general sense of your personal history, particularly your experiences of abuse. Can you please tell me about that, starting from what you first remember about childhood and going up until now?” They were also asked to describe what they knew about their sibling’s perspective—specifically, what they have gathered about how their sibling sees what happened to them as children, and whether there is congruence between their narratives and the impact of that. Interviews lasted between 60-90 minutes, not including time for assessment. Follow up questions were framed according to what arose with the intent of deepening contact with meaningful material. Attention was paid to how my own participation co-created a horizon of understanding along with the participant. For all the interviews, I did my best to be open and flexible towards the participants’ telling of their narrative while remaining attentive to time. All interviews occurred on Zoom and were recorded with permission. Gift certificates were mailed within one week of the interview.           46  Data Analysis There are many possibilities for reading, interpreting and analyzing narrative. For this study, I chose to use the method of analysis outlined by Lieblich, Tuval-Mashiach, and Zilber (1998). An essential aspect of their perspective on narrative analysis is that it requires dialogical listening to three voices, “the voice of the narrator, as represented by the tape or the text; the theoretical framework, which provides the concepts and tools for interpretation; and a reflexive monitoring of the act of reading and interpretation” (Lieblich et al., 1998, p. 10). They have also identified two independent dimensions of analysis within narrative inquiry: holistic versus categorical approaches and content versus form.  Firstly, holistic versus categorical refers to the unit of analysis: whether it is a piece or section extracted from a text or the narrative as a whole. The second dimension deals with the content versus the form of a story—while some readings may focus on what happened, why, who participated, etc., other content-oriented approaches aim towards implicit content by asking about meaning, or what traits or motives of the individual are displayed in the telling (Lieblich et al., 1998). Other versions of interpretation ignore the content and instead focus on form, that is the structure of the plot, sequence of events, complexity and coherence the style of the narrative, metaphors, and the like. For the purposes of this study, the narratives were viewed holistically, with attention paid both to content and form. The reasoning for this was my interest in interpreting parts of the data in light of the whole. In other words, any meaningful individual part of the narrative was understood within context, in order to maintain contact with the overall texture of the narrative. I was also interested in the form of the narratives, in how they developed over time, whether there was an identifiable plot structure (comedy vs. tragedy, etc.) and how        47  individual moments could be made sense of in light of overall narrative development. Each interview was transcribed from a Zoom recording using the Duquesne University Psychology Department’s Trint software. Following Lieblich, Tuval-Mashiach, and Zilber (1998), I performed both a separate holistic content reading and a holistic analysis of form for each narrative, followed by an analysis of how content and form overlap across the narratives.  As mentioned, holistic content approaches use the complete story of the individual and focus on the content that is presented. Major themes, patterns, and trajectories are examined, and the whole narrative is used in terms of pulling out themes, foci, and associations. In holistic form analysis, there is attention to plots and structure, which reveals something about how the narrator constructs their life experience. Indeed, it may be that the structure reveals something of the deeper personality of the storyteller as well as something about their culture. Lieblich and colleagues (1998) also describe several possible graphical shapes of narrative, which can include progression (an ascending line), regression (a descending line), and stable, characterized by a steady line. There are other possible categories, including romance (where a hero faces challenges en route to a goal), comedy (which focuses on the restoration of social order), tragedy (the hero is defeated, there is satire and a cynical perspective), and satire (which provides a cynical perspective on social hegemony).  Holistic content reading follows the following steps, adapted from Lieblich, Tuval-Mashiach, and Zilber (1998): 1. Read the material several times until a pattern emerges. This will likely be a central issue of the entire story. The significance of certain aspects of the story will depend on the entire story and its context.         48  2. Put initial and global impressions of the case into writing. Take note of an exceptions, unusual features, contradictions, or unfinished descriptions. Any disturbances in the participant or issues of disharmony in the story can be quite instructive. Take note of what the participant said about harmony/disharmony, congruence/incongruence, etc. between their understanding of what happened to them and their report of their sibling’s understanding.  3. Decide on a specific focus of content or themes to be looked for throughout the evolution of the story. These will include identification/differentiation, recognition, and sibling roles, as well as material that connects to narrative congruence versus incongruence with the sibling, from the participant’s perspective. Be mindful of how much space is given to a particular theme, as well as repetitions and attention to detail by the teller. Cultural factors and situatedness should also be accounted for at this stage, with specific attention paid to how cultural elements influence the shape and container of the narrative. 4. Use colored markers to mark the various themes in the story or change the font color if executed electronically. Read separately and repeatedly for each.  5. Keep track of results by following each theme throughout the story; note any thoughts or conclusions. Be aware of the initial and final appearance of a theme in the text, transitions between themes, contexts for each theme. Be mindful of contradictions to theme, in terms of content, mood, or evaluation by the teller (p. 62-63). Holistic analysis of form is conducted as follows (Lieblich et al., 1998):        49  1. The first phase of analysis involves identifying the axis of each stage—the thematic focus for the development of the plot. The content provides raw material for the structure. This plot axis can develop along any theme or issue important to the participant, but the researcher is focusing specifically on the form and direction of the content. A narrative, for example, may be one of progress, decline, or steady—all of which can be represented graphically. This also includes identifying mythic form. 2. Phase two of the analysis involves identifying the dynamics of the plot. These are identified by looking for markers in the participants speech, for example they may mention that something was a “crossroads”  or “the lowest point” in their life (p. 89-91). After completing these steps, I read across the narratives, looking at both content and form, for meaningful overlap in terms of thematic content and shape of the narrative as well as sibling roles and how they understood those as shaping their experiences. This created an opportunity to identify similarities and places of contrast. Thematic and structural points of resonance were marked. In addition to looking for overlap in terms of theme, narrative shape, and impact of sibling roles and how those shape experience, I was attentive to the way the participant talked about narrative congruence or incongruence with the sibling.  This allowed for a deeper understanding of how a participant’s sense of self and story were impacted by the way their sibling held the narrative alongside them. Though not a deliberate intention, in several cases it also revealed how the participant understood psychological processes around trauma. The theoretical framework I used in my analysis blends ideas from psychoanalysis, attachment theory, and family systems theory. I was particularly attentive to issues of identification and        50  differentiation, recognition, and sibling roles and how those had an impact on the themes and shape of the narrative. I also leaned heavily on trauma theory, drawing from a pluralistic model that accounts for Freudian-Caruthian understandings while also attending to cultural context. This was visible in how I attended to dissociation, repetition, and the possible ways in which trauma was “unspeakable” or remained unspoken due to contextual and cultural factors. Reflexivity  Just as the narrative itself is in flux, so too is interpretation. And interpretation itself is always personal, partial, and dynamic. This is one of the reasons why a reflexive monitoring on the part of the researcher is essential, and repeated readings allow for a hermeneutic process that helps cultivate an ever-growing circle of understanding. Science is never devoid of human interests, social positioning, and subjectivity—we cannot escape our own human presence in the research we conduct (Wertz et al., 2011). Part of the rigor of this research involves disclosing my own personal situatedness in this as it relates to this project and maintaining a sense of reflexivity as I progressed through the analysis portion of the study. I identify as a White, cis-gender female with lower and middle class roots, heterosexual, and a survivor of complex trauma in childhood. I have a sibling, one older sister. I am a psychodynamically oriented clinician in training, which informs the theoretical scaffolding for this project as well as my understanding of the unconscious dynamics of psychological life. All of these factors (and more) have had an impact on this research; indeed, I might not have been as sensitive to the emergence of this topic in my clinical cases if I did not have personal experience with it. This added another layer of complexity to the research process, as I had to be particularly aware of the how interview material might have challenged my ability to separate my own experience from that of my        51  participants. Though the material resonates with my experience, this is not a dissertation about my experience, and any discussion of my own experience is present focused. Practically speaking, adequate reflexivity required ongoing care and attention. For this reason, I kept a reflexivity journal where I documented my own reactions to interview material and explored how those responses may have an impact on my interpretations of material. I attended not only to my experiences with the phenomenon at hand, but also my sociocultural situatedness and its impact on my interpretation.  Member Checks According to Koelsch (2013), member checks have been used to establish transactional validity where the researcher has an interest in assuring that they have adequately interpreted and represented the material provided by participants. However, she invites us to consider how member checks can be used to span the transactional/transformational divide in qualitative research. In other words, while it is true that member checks can be useful for confirming a write up’s thematic coherence and sound analysis from the perspective of the participant themselves, it can also be a useful opportunity to explore the transformational validity of the project. Koelsch (2013) argues that researchers cannot assume that their participants are static throughout their participation—there may be a significant impact. In allowing participants to read the write up of the research project and provide feedback not only on accuracy, but on impact, there can be a deeper engagement with the transformational power of the project.   For this project, I used member checks to engage with both transactional and transformational validity. Participants were asked at the outset if they were comfortable giving feedback on the analysis after the fact, and informed that changes could be made if there were        52  significant discrepancies in interpretation. This also provided an opportunity for exploration of potential discrepancies.                              53  Chapter 3: Individual Narrative Findings  This chapter contains the findings of this study at the level of the individual narratives. Each narrative begins with a brief introduction of the participant, followed by a summary of their story as gleaned from their interview. Each narrative contains this summary as well as a discussion of emergent themes from the participant’s story. For each participant’s narrative, I also include a discussion of themes around sense of self and narrative congruence or incongruence with the sibling. Finally, each narrative also contains a holistic analysis of form, which examines the thematic drive of the plot, dynamics contributing to the changing form of the narrative, the shape of the narrative, as well as other factors like the narrative’s status as a romance or tragedy, progressive versus regressive, and so forth.  Alaina Narrative Summary At the time of our interview, Alaina was 35 years old and described herself as a White, straight, cis gender woman. She signed onto Zoom from Texas where she lives with her children and husband. When we started the interview, the room she was in was dark, her face illuminated by the computer screen. She wore a black jacket and dark, square-rimmed glasses that contrasted with her luminous skin and the green of her eyes. She smiled easily, and later, when she turned on a light, I noticed a long row of books on the desk behind her.  She said she has three brothers—the oldest is two and a half years older than her and her two younger brothers are almost a decade younger, 26 and 24 years old. Alaina started off her story by saying that she did not remember very much of her childhood. What she did remember, however, was greatly affected by the context of her “incredibly religious household.” She went        54  on to describe how she was treated differently because she was a girl, and there were religious undertones to this differential treatment. As she grew up, religious ideology and harmful messages about gender were further intertwined. She described consistently receiving the message that she was not as “fully human” as her brothers, since they had more freedom. She also spoke about her role in the family, stating that she self-identified as “the emotional support daughter.” In beginning with these points, Alaina gave me a synopsis of what were some of the essential issues in her story, and her narrative took shape around these points of contention.  At the age of 12, she was sexually abused by one of her parents’ best friends from church. He also gave pornography to her brother. The man, old enough to be her grandfather, would call to talk to Alaina on the household landline for hours. He would also take her out to do things together, just the two of them. Looking back, Alaina acknowledged how obviously inappropriate the situation was and how different she is as a parent in terms of the attention she gives her kids. Alaina said that her parents’ willful neglect and their religious lens were what created the conditions for this man’s abuse—from early in her childhood on, she was often left to her own devices: “I was always alone.” She referred to her parents as “passive” several times throughout the interview, and described them in terms of inattentiveness and distance, leaving her alone with her emotional needs. Her father was not communicative or involved. The situation went on for about a year, and she repressed the memory of what happened until she was 19, when an abusive romantic relationship catalyzed its reemergence. It wasn’t until then that she told her parents what had happened. She described the way that her religious upbringing affected her perception of this part of her life, “I thought I was going to hell for what I did. And so I think that’s why I repressed it. Well, let me amend that statement…what had been done to me.” When        55  asked if she spoke to her older brother about what happened or about the family dynamics in general, she described her family’s avoidant style of relating and how she and her older brother never really connected beyond smoking weed and watching TV together. She also discussed how she often found herself at odds with her older brother and they frequently fought.  Around the same time as the abuse, between the ages of 10-12, her younger brothers were born. As they grew, Alaina was not only given less leeway than them, she was also often given the role of babysitter. This pushed her deeper into taking on a maternal caretaker role in the family. Alaina also described how starting in early childhood she was treated differently from her older brother when it came to punishment and prohibition. She said, “I made the same kind of mistakes as my brother. I just was held accountable.” When it came to sexuality, she was held to a different standard. If she ever tried to discuss the differential treatment between them, her brother would shut down. She also felt jealousy towards him because he received a lot of attention from their father, and many of her childhood strivings included attempts to get closer to him:  I tried to do things so my dad would want to hang out with me too. I tried to get into really liking cars, which I still really like to this day. But then I don’t know if that’s something I would have sought out on my own. And then hunting. And that is not my jam to this day. But I did that, I tried to get into it to get to spend time with my dad. Once her older brother went to high school, their communication faded. Time went on, and at 19 she got pregnant with her daughter. Her relationship with her daughter’s father ended after a year due to his physical and sexual violence, which eventually culminated in him trying to kill her. After her daughter was born, her older brother was there for her in a way that she did not expect.        56  He was supportive, spending significant time watching her daughter while Alaina went to college to be better able to take care of her child. Alaina eventually married and then divorced another man who was also abusive and an alcoholic. Around that same time, her older brother met someone who already had two kids, and then they had a child together. Things seemed to “normalize” for some time.  After several years of this normalcy, during which Alaina married again to a healthy, “securely attached” man and blended families with him, she reached a turning point with her older brother. She discovered that he had been sexually abusing his stepdaughters. When asked what it was like for her to find that out, she said it was confusing, and she felt like she needed to be there for him. However, it became necessary to put a boundary around contact. She described how when she saw him in state prison, her personal boundaries were crossed (having to get patted down, spending time away from her kids), and his “self-centered” response and failure to take responsibility made it clear what kind of person he was. She has not spoken to him since.  When it comes to her relationship with her younger brothers, she said that while they are “pretty great,” they aren’t close, largely because they are at very different points in their lives. She also cited the family dynamic and her role as a “mother figure” as a kind of block since she doesn’t have an interest in playing that role anymore. In the 18 months prior to the interview, Alaina had been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, was working hard in therapy, and was seeing a great deal of improvement. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in quite some time, opting instead to focus on her husband, kids, and herself.           57  Narrative Themes Differential Treatment: Sexism and Religion. One major theme in Alaina’s story was the way her gender was taken up within her family alongside religion. It was painfully clear to Alaina from early childhood that she was seen and thus treated differently from her brothers because she was a girl. She received the message that she had inherently lower humanity: “I am less… I’m not as fully human as my brothers are, because they got certain passes on things that I did not.” She went on to describe the impact of this by saying, “I think that compounded the invalidation that I experienced, both for my parents and on a level of ‘you’re going to hell if you have normal human urges.’” Unlike her brothers, it was implied that her body and sexuality were not really hers. She said, “like having sex for the first time—now, nobody's going to want me, like, I'm not pure anymore. I, you know, I stole from my future husband. My brother didn't get told shit like that.” Unlike Alaina, her older brother’s worth as a human being was not tied to ideas about “purity.”  Additionally, while Alaina was given the role of caretaker, and “held accountable” for her actions, her older brother “could do no wrong.” She accounted for the possibility of her brother holding a different perspective by stating, “well, obviously that’s incredibly biased. I bet he would say that he got in trouble all the time,” but she maintained her own position that he “got a pass” when it came to his behavior. Growing up, Alaina was repeatedly put in the position of caretaker, expected to babysit her little brothers and tend to the emotional needs of the family. The maternal nature of this role had a deep impact on her relationship with her younger brothers: I’m more of a mother figure to them because I did watch them all the time and... my little brothers still always see me in the role of like, I need to be the one to tell them happy        58  birthday, for example, but not the other way around. And so it’s still just a very paternalistic role that, and I don’t have an interest in playing… as I’ve become aware of it. Alaina’s older brother seems to have been impacted by some of these cultural ideas about gender dynamics. She gave one example where she compared the way her husband currently talks to her daughter about relationships versus how her older brother reacted to the violence and abuse Alaina experienced: My husband is really good about telling her, like, ‘you know, you don’t deserve that.’ And like all of that stuff like, ‘this is how somebody should be treating you.’ And I didn’t get anything like that. And I remember my older brother when I split with my ex-husband, for sexual and physical abuse, my older brother said, ‘well, I know how my sister can get sometimes.’ The contrast between her husband and older brother in this example is striking. Along with her husband providing a different kind of experience for her daughter, Alaina also described striving to be aware of the dynamics in the family, assuring that her daughter does not feel alienated because of her gender. She said, “I have another biological son and then I have two stepsons, so she’s the only girl… in a house of four, she’s the only girl. So I can relate, and I’m very mindful of her not feeling singled out.” Responsibility: Passivity and Avoidance. It seems that while Alaina sees her parents as ultimately passive, that passivity had different applications and outcomes for her and her older brother. For Alaina, they failed to step in when she was sexually abused and were unable to give adequate emotional support and connection. According to Alaina, “I was the kid with the big        59  emotions… my dad was physically around. But I can maybe count my conversations with my dad on both my hands… we don’t ever talk about anything.” This lack of communication also extended to her older brother. Even though they had some similar experiences and lived under the same roof, they did not discuss anything that was happening—including their harsh religious upbringing or the man who abused Alaina and gave her older brother pornography. When she would try to talk to him about the differential treatment they experienced, he would shut down and not listen to anything else. For Alaina, this meant that what she was trying to communicate was “lost.” Even when they did spend time together, usually watching TV and smoking weed, they “didn’t have meaningful conversations.”  We might also understand Alaina’s role in the family as “caretaker” or “rescuer” emerging in large part due to her parents’ passivity and failure to offer adequate support. This had an impact on her relationship with her younger brothers as well, who, according to Alaina, still see her as a maternal figure and are unable to be reciprocal in their relationship to her.  When it comes to her older brother, her parents did not hold him accountable for his actions and failed to intervene when he was influenced by the same man who sexually abused Alaina. When asked about how she made sense of why things turned out so differently between her and her older brother despite living in the same household, she wrestled with the issue of responsibility: I think we turned out very differently. And so, its perplexing how we can have the same parents. Pretty much the same experiences… and just turn out so… so differently. And it makes me wonder, like, what part is innate and what part was part of social conditioning? And maybe my brother not having the tools that he needed. And I don’t know how our        60  incredibly strict religious upbringing impacted him. The same dude who sexually abused me gave my brother a whole bunch of porn, so I just… these are, these things that I don’t know. And I get mad at my parents. Here, we return to a point that Alaina made at the very start of her narrative—that the combination of passivity and harmful religious ideology created the context for the strife they each experienced, albeit in different ways.  Breaking Cycles: An Active Stance. Another theme present throughout Alaina’s narrative was that of breaking cycles. She frequently differentiated her past from her present, identifying what was unhealthy about her past and the people in it, and what she was striving for in the present and future. For example, in describing how her parents allowed for their church friend’s abuse, she said, “there were a lot of grooming behaviors that my parents were well aware of, but they allowed me to go with this guy all the time and just… actively put me in harm’s way. I have a daughter and I just… I couldn’t imagine.” Alaina described working to improve her mental health, taking responsibility in an active way that she identified as quite the opposite to her parents’ passivity: I’ve been working my ass off in therapy…I got diagnosed with BPD [borderline personality disorder] like 18 months ago. And I was like, ‘Oh, okay. So it’s not everybody else, it’s me.’ And that gave me a lot of context to know, okay, now I know what’s wrong with me. I can fix it. Because that tenacity is still there.  Instead of shirking responsibility or shutting down, Alaina described openly exploring the ways that she could change the patterns instilled in her by her upbringing. Additionally, she relayed her motivation to “take a much more active stance” in her role as a parent and “not be        61  emotionally immature” like her parents were. She also mentioned her husband several times, noting how his support and positive role modeling for her daughter was very different from the kinds of models she had as a child.   In addition to placing healthy boundaries around the role she played in relation to her parents and her brother, Alaina also worked on some of the other habits she had developed in response to the context she was raised in: Those roles maybe… impacted my ability to meet my own needs... I will disregard my needs. And I question everything, and I need so much external validation... If I am not aware of it and asking of too much of it, it can impact and take a toll on some of my relationships. And again, DBT [dialectical behavior therapy], big fan, we learned a lot of how to self-validate. Because you know, I also recognize too, we all need validation from time to time. We’re social people. But there’s stuff that I can do for myself, too. Towards the end of the interview, she also remarked that part of her journey in therapy has been learning to find an alternative to “swinging the pendulum” in the opposite direction—instead of reactively choosing to move to the opposite side of the spectrum from her family, she is learning to find more balance: As I get older, and again, what I’ve been learning in therapy and stuff like that is never is anything so black and white. So as the pendulum has swung so hard the other way, I’ve been really mindful of what, in figuring out what middle of the road feels like and looks like for me.        62  This seemed to mark another aspect of Alaina’s journey to self-discovery, outside her family’s roles and definitions of her, as well as something more balanced than her response in total opposition.  Sense of Self: Emotional Support Daughter/Tenacious Rebel  Alaina’s sense of herself had multiple layers that were revealed over the course of her narrative. Initially, she claimed herself as the “emotional support daughter,” the one who could be relied upon for receptive care and attention in the family. This echoed her stance as the caretaker and seemed to relate to how she had to play rescuer for her mother. Later on, she described attempting to identify with and connect to her father, and in turn her brother, through the things they did together—hunting and cars. Despite her childhood longings to connect with her father, the more dominant message in her narrative is one of differentiation. She described herself as a rebel, tenacious, and in clear opposition to her parents’ religious ideals as well as their parental passivity. Even in very early childhood, she had strong negative reactions to the limitations placed on her when it came to her gender. She hated dresses as a child because she “had to wear them,” which we might think of as relating to a comment she made about not liking being told what to do. Being forced to wear dresses may also have been bound up with some of the damaging messages she got as a child about what it means to be a girl and later to be a woman. When asked how the religious ideology of her family affected her, she said “I think it made me so tenacious, because I was always challenging perceptions that people placed on me because I did not like that. I did not like being told what to do… It contributed to my rebellious nature.” She had defined herself in opposition to them in most of the ways that seemed most        63  salient to their individual family culture: where her family is Catholic, she is atheist; they are conservative, she is very liberal. She said, “I just let the pendulum swing the whole other way.” This differentiation seemed to also occur at deeper levels, relating to her sense of herself and her identity. She set herself apart from her parents and her brothers, citing her refusal to take on the roles prescribed to her earlier (rescuer, caretaker, emotional support person) as well as firm boundaries around communication. She said, “I don’t have the emotional strength to continue to put forth effort with little in return. I’ve got my own family to focus on.” Perhaps the most powerful example of this from her narrative was when she decided to cut off communication with her older brother despite initially feeling a need to be a support system—a role she had been placed in her whole life. She felt ambivalence about shedding this role. However, after she visited him in state prison, something shifted: I waited for hours in line on my Saturday, missing my kids to go inside… Part of the process is you gotta get felt up, gotta make sure you're not bringing anything. That was a hard boundary for me that was crossed. And then just to go and sit and have him be... So... like, self-centered in all of it just blew my mind. And it showed me a person that. I mean, it was just no mistake. And, like, I'm done. This encounter catalyzed a shift away from that supportive role in part because of what she saw in her older brother. She described her reaction by saying “ever since that, I have not. I told my mom, I was like, I can’t do it anymore. I’m not…” This moment seemed to represent a kind of turning point in her sense of her own identity. Through gaining clarity about her brother, she discovered something about herself—who she is willing to be, what role she will perform, and what she will not.         64  High Narrative Incongruence: Dismissal  Narrative congruence is, in part, an issue of recognition—how much of one’s story, of one’s sense of self, is recognized by the sibling? Much of Alaina’s narrative was marked by a lack of recognition by her parents as well as her brothers. They failed to meet her emotional needs or understand her beyond the caretaker role. Her older brother also refused to engage with her in a dialogue about their differential treatment, pointing to an inability or disinclination to see and accept her as a separate subject with an identity, desires, qualities, and feelings. It seems that her brother’s reaction—shutting down and refusing her hear her out—was a dismissal. In the face of this, her priority was to still say what was true for her but perhaps try to shape it in a way that was more digestible. She described this by saying “So, how can I still get my voice heard then? And get at the same thing while being true to what I feel is true.” This seems to suggest that despite her brother’s failure to connect with her in the way that was most authentic to her, her stance was resolute—even though she had to shape her delivery in a way that was more accessible to him. In discussing her brother’s perception of her as “dramatic”—essentially undermining her experience and once more dismissing it—Alaina’s response was to double down, “Yeah, if I’m told ‘quit being dramatic’ that’s one way to get it to be more dramatic. Not so much lately, using the skills that I’m actually learning to kind of emotionally regulate myself better.” From this, we might glean that in the face of so much dismissal and rejection rather than recognition, Alaina’s tendency has been to reinforce her emotional experience, perhaps, according to her, in a less than helpful way sometimes. However, she described learning to do so in healthier ways.         65  Holistic Analysis of Form: Towards Differentiation  Alaina’s narrative did not follow a strict sequence of stages given in a single stream of thought. Instead, she began by discussing some of the most important elements of her narrative and then moved into describing the most salient early trauma for her—sexual abuse by her parents’ church friend. The rest of her story came together through our dialogue together over the next hour. Though generally linear, her story was also punctuated by comparisons of past and present, which makes sense given how much of her present is understood in terms of her strivings to make it different from her past, as well as the importance of differentiation in her narrative. The study itself is geared towards the relational, and so it makes sense that the shape and direction of her narrative changed at relational turning points. Generally, Alaina’s narrative was one of progress. She began at a low point—a trauma that encapsulated many of the themes that continued throughout. It continued in a steadily negative pattern through childhood, before the negativity changed shape as she discussed the abusive relationships she was in. Then, her focus shifted to her relationships with those outside of the home. This was also a turning point for her relationship with her brother—a positive shift towards closeness and support. Things shifted towards the better from there, as she found a healthy relationship with her now husband and things “normalized” and were steady for some time.   Another major shift, which seems to be the culminating point of Alaina’s narrative, was when she found out that her older brother was sexually abusing his stepdaughters. She said, “that just turned everything. Just took it all away.” Though she initially played a supportive role for him, she eventually ended contact. This major turning point reinforced the importance of differentiation as a driving force in Alaina’s narrative. It was her consistent striving across her        66  story to release herself from the damaging patterns of her family that pushed her narrative forward and made for significant change in her trajectory. While her brother remained an ambivalent figure in some ways (she wondered, towards the end of the story, about her parents’ passivity as a factor in his outcome and feels anger towards them), it was clear that this marked a significant loss and her perspective on him was forever and irrevocably changed. Despite this relational dip, ultimately this seemed to contribute to an overall pattern of progress and a structure that most closely resembles a romance. Releasing herself from the support role and putting up healthy boundaries allowed her to further step into a more multifaceted sense of self that was grounded in an understanding of her own needs.  Member Check  About nine months after our initial interview, Alaina and I met for a member check interview. She received the summary and analysis ahead of time. Alaina felt that the summary was accurate to her experience and that the themes also resonated as some of the most salient issues for her narrative. In discussing her experience reading the summary, she said it was validating. Seeing it laid out from a “third-party perspective” helped her to learn about herself “through the lens of someone else.” Alaina gave a brief update about how she had been working in therapy to recognize some of the more difficult patterns she was engaged in before and how she could do things differently in the present. Part of this process was “rewriting” her narrative, which also meant that she had to “name it to tame it,” being able to name and identify patterns helped to create the opportunity to do something about it. Participating in the research contributed, in some small way, to this process.         67  Alaina also mentioned that seeing how her narrative’s themes were connected to themes from other participants made it feel “a little less lonely, it helps shed the personalization.” Seeing the overlap helped her to put some things “at arm’s length,” and helped her to recognize that she isn’t alone with her experiences. Ultimately, she found it to be a positive experience because it helped her to gain perspective. She said, “man, you know when you zoom out, it’s powerful… ultimately working on things can lead to change.”  Barry Narrative Summary Barry signed on to our Zoom interview from Minnesota. On the wall behind him, he had several tidy rows of action figures on floating shelves accompanied by an LED set up. It shifted and shimmered as we talked, glowing gently over his head. He started the interview cautiously at first, but once he began telling his story he approached it with verve and intensity, weaving together his history with his thoughts on politics and religion, and inviting me into his world through pictures of his past. He described himself as a 32-year-old White male, and a “pure bred American Mutt.” He has six siblings—he is the oldest, with four sisters and a brother. He was closest to his sister Ava, the second born. Colleen and his brother Frank were born later, and he does not have contact with his two youngest sisters. Barry described a chaotic childhood, characterized by violence and instability that would lead to him developing dissociative identity disorder among other challenges. His parents were very young when they had him—fifteen or sixteen years old, and his earliest memories were of poverty, abuse, and neglect. He was also sexually abused by a babysitter, which was so severe it resulted in physical limitations. Barry described how on many occasions in his childhood he would be hungry and in need of attention,        68  and his mother and her friends would ignore his needs because they were intoxicated. When he was two, the man assumed to be his father (later referred to as his stepfather) went to jail, and his mother applied for welfare, which required a paternity test. After his stepfather found out that he was not Barry’s biological father, the abuse got worse upon his return from jail. When Barry was three, it was recognized that a man from a wealthy family in the area was his biological father. Barry described himself as the protector of his siblings. In addition to stealing food so they could eat, he would take the beatings meant for them. He described himself as a guard dog and a soldier, fiercely protective, especially of his sister Ava. Often, protecting them meant being harmed himself. While he was vocal and active, Ava was quiet and passive until her needs were unbearable. Barry described a turning point in the trajectory of his story: after stealing money from his mother to get food for himself and his sister at Sunday school, his mother became very violent and picked his sister up and threw her into the street, hurting her badly.  It was at this point, Barry said, that his paternal grandparents stepped in to offer interim foster care. Initially, Barry had doubts about this as it would mean separation from his siblings. His biological father encouraged him because it would mean more resources for his sisters, and Barry eventually relented. Sometime after that, his mother’s intoxicated boyfriend ran over his sister Colleen’s foot, which then had to be amputated. She was then also removed from the home and sent to live with her father, Barry’s stepdad. Ava was left behind with their mother. According to Barry, the impact of this separation was “never really mended.” Their relationship disintegrated quite a bit after that, and Barry would go on to live in a world very different from the one he lived in previously. He said, “those would be two years that I lived with my grandparents of what I would describe as normalcy…and… it was still bad. I got suspended all        69  the time.” Eventually, his biological father bought a house, remarried, and got full custody of Barry.  When his father remarried, Barry thought he was getting a mom, someone he could love who would love him and care for him in return. He was deeply disappointed and found her to be controlling and abusive. His father and stepmother were wealthy, put together people, with a fiercely religious ideology, and this contributed to the dynamics of abuse. He described how he was expected to do a great deal of housework and remain unobtrusive. At the same time, his computer, video games, and iguana were taken from him, with his stepmother claiming that these were “instruments of the devil.” Barry, in response, was rebellious and made his refusal of their beliefs known. He said, “the harder they punished me, the more I retaliated.” This retaliation occurred both at home and out in the world, at school, through violence and destruction of property. He described lighting fires and “punching nuns” that tried to force his obedience. He also had panic attacks where he would run out of the room. Though clear that he did not condone some of his actions at that time, his actions seem to reflect the destructive environment he was in and his experience in it.  Barry described his family as “biblical literalists,” and much of their emotional and verbal abuse had religious overtones. To guide their parenting, they used the books “To Train Up a Child” by Michael and Debi Pearl (1994) and “The Strong-Willed Child,” by James Dobson (1978), both heavily critiqued as condoning child abuse. When his grandmother died and left him about $40,000, his father and stepmother took it to buy a second home. Barry also discussed how he was physically and emotionally abused through adolescence. His parents forced him to do a kind of therapy known as the Evergreen model of coercive restraint therapy, which encourages        70  regression and physical restraint of the child in question (Mercer, 2005). This model has resulted in the death of children (Mercer, 2005). They also sent him to teen behavioral camps starting when he was 13, and eventually a drill academy. During these difficult years, he would only see his siblings on weekends, context pulling them in very different directions. Ava eventually became addicted to heroin, lost custody of her children, and was (at the time of the interview) in jail. His middle sister Colleen moved to California and became a “party girl.” His brother Frank was still struggling with meth and housing instability. While he still had contact with his middle sister over social media, it seemed his connections to his other sister and brother held more complexity for him. In the past, he had tried to support each of them in different ways—money for his sister to help support her children when she still had custody and allowing his brother to stay with him when he was homeless. In both these cases, Barry stopped offering support because of his siblings’ actions. In his sister’s case, he worried that the money he gave her was going to heroin, not her children. His brother consistently disrespected the boundaries Barry had regarding his home. For Barry, it was his literacy and his need to fight against the systems he was in that led him to disidentify with his family and their patterns. From his perspective, his siblings lacked the knowledge and motivation to do the same.  He has two very young siblings that still live with his father and stepmother, and it was painful to imagine them entering into the same cycle that Barry experience, “it still causes me agony to know, there's nothing I can do to help them.” Even though he does not have a relationship with them, he feels strongly for them, and regrets that he cannot take a more protective role with them. Barry and I spoke about reporting potential child abuse given his history with them, and I called protective services. I did not receive any follow up, likely because        71  he had very little to report in terms of directly witnessing his youngest siblings’ abuse and it did not reach Minnesota’s threshold for further investigation.  Narrative Themes Inversion and Chaos. Throughout Barry’s narrative, there were elements of chaos, a breakdown of the natural order and a series of inversions that undermined what is life-affirming. Barry set the scene of his childhood by explaining that his parents were very young—barely more than children at 15 and 16 years old. He and his siblings were subjected to severe neglect and abuse: When you talk about neglect, my earliest memories are my mom and friends high, in the room, and I'm also there, like, hungry, and like needing attention, or whatever, right? Because they were high as fuck, um… SA [sexual abuse] happened from one of my caretakers, it was a neglect thing. When he was about four years old, his grandmother kissed him, and he told her to stop because it was making him “horny.” When asked where he heard that, he told her it was from his babysitter: So like, that’s when a whole thing kind of came about, I guess… and so it had been years of inappropriate relationship… stuff. And again, to me now, it’s like, who the fuck would even want to do that? With like, a five-year-old? Like, what the fuck?  At one point, his stepfather tried to cut off his hand. The adults around him did not care for him or provide safety. Instead, they invited chaos and committed acts of violence against him and his siblings. He mentioned Ava as having survived similar treatment by babysitters.          72  Between the ages of 1-7, they moved a lot. He said, “we moved like 14 times, moving multiple times a year, because my mom would just move in, not pay rent, get kicked out, move and not pay rent, get kicked out.” In his early childhood, discovering that his stepfather was not his biological father led to rejection and an increase in abuse, as well as a removal from the Native American community he was originally thought to be a part of. He said, “…until I was three, they thought I was native, and they have like, native things that they do with children that they did with me. And then they had to like undo, which was very traumatic.” This created a divide between him and the other children living in the home because they were biologically his stepfather’s children. “Undoing” these rituals invokes a kind of inverting of the natural order of family and community building—instead of inviting a child into life through family and connection, there is rejection from it, an undoing of belonging. Barry’s early childhood was also marked by scarcity and of his strivings to survive and help his siblings survive. He was largely parentified due to his mother’s incompetence and would do whatever was necessary to feed himself and his sisters, including steal. As previously mentioned, this often resulted in physical abuse against him and his sister.  After interim foster with his grandparents—the only time he had a positive sense of his caretakers—his biological father bought a house and got full custody of Barry. Barry described this time as going from “living in chaos and clutter to what's sometimes described as like a gilded cage.” He went on to describe his biological father and stepmother, “my parents, they're extremely beautiful people… put together, and they have fuck tons of money. That was part of my problem.” His parents were very wealthy and religious. When his biological father first married his stepmother, Barry had thought he was “getting a mom,” someone to care for him:        73  No, I didn't. I got a narcissistic asshole, who definitely thought my purpose in life was to serve her. And in me thinking that my mom should be serving me. I guess I wasn't trying to be like, sexist, but I kind of thought she was gonna be my mom. Um, but like, she did nothing, and she immediately went right into me, like, I did all the floors. I did all the mowing, all the shoveling all my own laundry, all the dishes… it would be all the time. If I wasn't like working for her, I was lazy and worthless and a piece of shit and needed to disappear, like it was basically either you're here and attentive, or you don't exist, and those were the only two modes I was allowed. Six days after they got back from their honeymoon, she took my iguana. When his grandmother died and left him $40,000, his biological father and stepmother took it to buy a second home: So they just kept taking from me, I guess. Right. And it definitely felt unequitable. Of course, then my stepmother’s perspective, I was her property. She even like verbalized it... ‘You are my child, you are my property, anything you have is already mine.’ He was also subjected to abusive “therapies” that were meant to make him more obedient and submissive. His father would systematically beat him, then “when he was done, he’d stand in the doorway [and say]… ‘I love you.’ And I fucking gave it to him. Dude, fucking, ‘that’s not love. This is fucking torture.’” In Barry’s story, parents hurt their children and take from them, while children must be protectors and caretakers. Therapies cause trauma, and abuse is labeled as love.  Divergent Resources, Divergent Paths. Early on, Barry was set apart from his siblings in the sense that he was not his stepfather’s biological son. This led to a fissure between them that would take them on very different paths. This was particularly poignant for Barry when it        74  came to Ava, the sister closest to him in age, as they were very close before he left to live with his biological father. This was a painful transition, fraught with ambivalence for Barry:  So, first of all, my dad's a fucking piece of shit. So he told me to do things... when I left, the way he made it sound was, if I leave then my mom will have more resources to take care of my sisters, right? Like, that was what finally got me to agree to leave. And in the end, I still felt and feel like I was betraying my sisters. And I feel like they kind of felt the same, I guess. Around the same time, his sister Colleen was also taken from the home to live with Barry’s stepfather (her biological father) and Frank went to live with his biological father, leaving Ava alone with their mother. Barry described his ambivalence about this, and his sense of its impact: My mom is a psychopath… I'm sorry, I, I had to numb it. Because I was helpless and had my own problems… I have my own conflicts, to try to resolve. Right? Like, I don't have the resources. I was a child… In the end of the day, I made the best decision I could for me, right, I was offered warm baths and food every day… So I think that really shattered our relationship a bit, I guess… Because I definitely think she was like, clingy, you know what I mean, like before that, like, because we were always together… and then it never really mended. Barry was clearly conflicted about leaving his siblings behind for better material circumstances. He seemed to carry ambivalent feelings about this during the interview, acknowledging that the rift caused by this separation was never really mended. His new circumstances would worsen once his biological father got full custody, but his parents’ prioritization of education would also make a difference for him. Barry pointed out that between him and his siblings, he was the one        75  with more access to and engagement with educational resources, which made a big difference, according to him, in terms of outcome: My literacy is significantly higher. My level of education is significantly higher. Education was the priority. Everything my parents did to me was in the interest of makings sure I went to college. I’m so… they don’t understand, and even if you tell them they don’t understand, they don’t comprehend. Their financial resources also neutralized some of the legal issues that otherwise would have made things more difficult for Barry.  As previously described, Barry and his siblings were pulled in very different directions—Ava to jail, Colleen to California and the party lifestyle, and Frank into addiction. He couldn’t bring himself to visit Ava in jail. He said, “I’ve only visited her once. I don’t really plan to visit her again. I wish it wasn’t this way, right. But I don’t want to see her in that situation. And she’s so angry. All I can do is shut off. Right?” He said he never felt very close to Colleen. And while Frank “worshipped” him for some time, and Barry wanted to “do everything for him,” Barry could not follow him down the path he took. Any help that he offered to his siblings—Ava and Frank particularly—eventually had to be withdrawn. His two youngest sisters, born to his biological father and stepmother, are not a part of his life, and he sees them as possibly following in their mother’s footsteps. At the end of his narrative, there is a sense of the siblings as scattering, with Barry ultimately the one most capable of seeking treatment for his mental health and creating a stable-enough world for himself despite the trauma he endured.   Sense of Self: Guard Dog/Man Who Guards           76   Throughout the narrative, Barry took on the role of protector. This took several forms for him and changed over time. He also labeled it in different ways, sometimes ambivalently. From the beginning, he was the protector, particularly for his sister Ava to whom he felt especially close. He described feeling like there wasn’t very much choice for him in terms of the role he played in the family. He said, “and there's really no other way because like, I was the, what do they call that adultification? Parentification?” In the chaos of his childhood home, there was no adult to step up and defend him or his siblings from the turmoil, and so he stepped up to fill that role, often at great expense to himself. When his sister would get in trouble, for example, he would often step in and distract by smashing his mother’s drug paraphernalia, drawing attention to himself in her place. This meant that he often put himself in harm’s way to defend her and make sure her basic needs were met:  I made sure my mom got fed, but I didn't really give a fuck, but it was making sure my sister saw tomorrow, right and me seeing tomorrow was in pursuit of the goal of my sister seeing tomorrow. Because… even today, I get that… I consider them intrusive thoughts. But the jump in the way of the train kind of shit where like, I'll hurt myself if it means to help someone else.  He also defended her at school from bullies who would pick on her. Where he was active, extroverted, and vocal, his sister was not: [she] was pretty quiet… So like, I've always been an extrovert, right? And I've always found that the garnering of attention enables me to at least be aware of the narrative, right? Because if I try to claim attention, and somebody yells at me, I now kind of know how the deck is stacked... Ava was always much more ‘I want and therefore will have        77  now’ uhm, so she'd be like, quiet until she had a desperate need was kind of part of the problem, I guess. It is possible that these different styles of engaging the world were co-created—he would step in to meet the needs that his sister couldn’t vocalize, and she could remain more passive as a result.  Barry described how he has internalized a sense of himself as a man who guards. He also described himself as a guard dog more than once but was ambivalent about the term as it might come off as disparaging. He said, “I was the guard dog in the best possible way.” In hearing him use this term despite being conflicted about it, I thought back to another point where, in describing what it was like for him to move into his father’s house, he brought in the image of a dog to help explain their expectation that he would toe a certain line: You don’t take the dog in the house and then get pissed off when it shits on the floor if it’s lived outside all its life… I’m not saying I was shitting on floors, but like faux pas, like, you know, I’m saying and even to this day, I give zero fucks about your faux pas. Um if somebody does something that I disagree with, or they mentioned an ideology, I think it’s dangerous, yeah, we’re gonna get into it. At one point he also mentioned James Dobs’ book and described how in the opening chapter Dobs beats his dog into submission and then goes on to encourage this same practice with children. Withdrawing from the image and seeing himself as a man who guards versus a dog who guards seems to be a move toward self-respect, an understandable need to represent himself with dignity and humanity after what he had survived. In his approach of the term, I wonder about how this may also serve as a reclamation of the image as a powerful, fierce, and loyal protector. However ambivalent the image is, it returned several times in Barry’s dialogue. It is        78  also clear throughout that Barry has learned not to trust figures of authority, “and that kind of comes into the anti-authoritarian where I don't trust them to protect, right, whether through inability, or will.” This leaves a vacancy, a space that Barry steps into as protector. However, the way he has previously stepped into this role, and occasionally still does, has cost him greatly.  Barry also talked about himself in a way that suggested that even though he still strongly identified with his self-image as protector, some of his experiences had made him less self-sacrificing:  The drill academy made me much more self-preserving... the desire to protect others, they beat it out of me in really bad ways… for a long time, I just didn't really have empathy in the way I do now towards anyone, right? Because it's like, oh, yeah, fucked up shit happened to you? Me too. Um, I don't have answers. At one point, in discussing his younger siblings, he expressed his worry that they would be married off at extremely young ages:  I'm really afraid that they're gonna marry them off at you know 15-16. That's, that's like my primary—and again, it's legal, legal. Fucking, your parents sign the document, you can marry at 14 in Minnesota. Fucking backwards ass Germans. I don't give a shit, not my fucking problem. Yes, it is. (Rrrrr).  It seems clear here in his immediate reversal of his statement that there is some conflict about himself as being in some way responsible or accountable to them—another call to that protector role, despite ambivalence about it.  He also spoke to his sense of himself as being at odds with an image-focused way of engaging the world, which his stepmother fully embraced, creating a sense of hypocritical        79  illusion. He said, “it became like… a Norman Rockwell painting, but if anyone breaks the illusion… it’s like a sin. I don’t know. It’s like everything’s illusionary. I just don’t comprehend it. it’s not a lifestyle I could adhere to.” In his stepmother’s eyes, he was “a demonic, evil, terrible sinful beast who needs to be punished into submission. So the harder they punished me, the more I react—retaliated.” Barry’s sense of himself was formed in opposition.  It is of note, too, that in discussing his sense of himself as a rebel (a role or identity I asked him about—it was my word, not his), he described himself as rebelling for the sake of others, “when I was rebelling, it was against power structures that were using their power to hurt others to put themselves in a better position. And I'm not going to stand for that shit.” He also discussed how he didn’t really want to rebel—he had no choice: I don't want to rebel. But the things that you're demanding… you're not giving me a choice here. I'm not gonna condone the murder of abortion doctors and gay people… I'm not gonna listen, that son of a bitch, stand on stage and call gay people demons, and not stand up and scream it… Sorry, but like, that got me in a lot of trouble, too. Because I'm just not going to… I'm not going to let you hurt people. Because of your fucking book. It's just not going to happen.  In his adulthood, this could sometimes make things difficult for him: I guess if that it makes it's very hard for me to hold a job. And again, like, who do I blame? I'm not trying to place blame, but... If my boss lies to me, we have a problem. Right? And a lot of bosses they feel entitled to lie to you, ‘you're just my employee, I gave you the information you need.’ And it's like, you lied to me. You fucking piece of shit. Right? Like, you kind of see what I'm saying? Like, and if they lie, if I see them        80  doing something to a coworker, yeah, I'm gonna go on the fucking attack. Because they won't. One can imagine how, in this case, Barry’s coworkers might in some way occupy the same space of lateral other that his siblings occupied in childhood. He finds himself filling the same role for his coworkers that he did for his siblings.  Mixed Congruence: Same Math, Different Conclusion  There were several layers to how Barry understood the way the communal history is held between his siblings. He described how he and Ava had a similar understanding of the nature of their situation and talked about some of the things that they went through together: At the time we like knew, I guess. And like, anything we wouldn't talk about was because it would make my mother irate. Um, so otherwise, we talked about everything... Especially like the babysitters and stuff. Um, it's one of those things that especially now it's like, like, someone who's willing to watch your kids for $5 isn't someone you want to watch your kid for $5.  Aside from this example, however, he saw his siblings as having a very different approach to the way they navigate the world today in light of what happened to them when they were younger. Barry saw them as perpetuating the cycles they were caught in as children:  Their worldview… It's just we don't see eye to eye once again. I went through a lot of indoctrination. I went through a lot of having to combat things taught to me. They didn't. And so, they're more accepting of things that I find irrational…the last time I saw them, my sister, she was hitting her kids. And I'm like, ‘Don't fucking hit your kids.’ And she's like, ‘don't fucking tell me how to raise my kids.’ And I'm like, ‘Alright, I'm gonna leave        81  then.’ And she's like, ‘I don't fucking care.’ And then I left. So like I said, I wouldn't hit kids because of the way I was raised. Like we just, same math different conclusion.  His sister no longer has custody of any of her children. In this part of the interview, we can also see his understanding that their approach to the world had been molded by their divergent paths as dictated by their parentage and home life. For Barry the fact that he had to fight against the dynamics in his father’s house, and had access to better educational resources, had meant that he was better able to critique and act in opposition to their upbringing. His sister Ava, however, perpetuated it, as did Colleen and Frank through their substance abuse: I don't think any of my siblings have had the literacy or just ability to do it… And that's part of where I would describe myself as exceptionally literate… knowledge is power. And it's really the only thing that ever kept me fighting, right, whereas for them, they could just fight in their rubric and still come out the other end, if that kind of makes sense. I had too many systems to fight. When asked how it affects him, seeing this, he said “I have to take it, I have to accept it,” which seems to again serve a need for self-preservation.   Holistic Analysis of Form: Preservation of Other, Preservation of Self  Barry’s narrative took a winding path, thematically oriented around the theme of preservation of self-versus other, which ultimately ended in an ambivalent place with his siblings. His narrative was mostly linear, with small tangents exploring the history, religion, or political ideology that was relevant to that element of his experience. His high level of literacy, as he described it, was visible in this way, as was the intense energy of his internal world. He also often answered questions initially through stories rather than direct answers.         82   Barry defined himself and much of his early situation in terms of preserving the survival and safety of his sister Ava. He sacrificed his own well-being on her behalf, deliberately drawing negative attention to preserve her safety. However, his narrative reaches a turning point when his father convinces him to move in with his grandparents. There is a great deal of tension at this moment in his narrative around needs versus a sense of responsibility—an impossible tension for a child. On the one hand, he did not want to leave his mother’s home because he would no longer be able to play the role of protector for his siblings. However, he was also being offered basic, necessary resources that were scarce in his home at the time, “warm baths and food every day.”   Later on, his attendance at drill academy served as another turning point, as he became more interested in his own self-preservation. This also seems fraught with ambivalence, as to him it signifies a loss of empathy. Though this seems to indicate that he has regained empathy at this point, he also made it clear that he was less likely to sacrifice his own well-being for his siblings. As much as he attempted to protect them from their parents, he could not protect them from themselves, and had to establish healthy boundaries for the sake of his own self-preservation. Even still, there was ambivalence in this stance—for example, with his youngest siblings, “I don't give a shit, not my fucking problem. Yes, it is.”  Barry’s narrative had a fairly linear structure with an understanding of what contributed to the sequence of events that he describes. He connected their departure from the same household as a defining factor in their divergent pathways and makes connections to cycles of trauma and abuse as factors in the perpetuation of certain dynamics. Though the sibling aspect of his narrative seemed to be steady if not somewhat regressive in the sense that he arrived at a place where he feels ambivalent about his role, his more general narrative does seem to be        83  progressive. He was able to identify and resist the abusive dynamics of his homelife. His narrative most resembles a tragedy—in some ways, Barry is extraordinary, a hero whose ultimate weapon is his ability to acquire knowledge and use it to his advantage. However, the clear ambivalence he feels about his position with his siblings suggests that the world he lives in, the nature of his story, is ultimately a fraught one.  Member Check  Barry and I met for a member check interview about nine months after our initial meeting. We read through the narrative and themes together before discussing the overarching findings of the study. Barry shared that since our initial interview, he had been working on his dissociative identity disorder symptoms and was integrating parts of himself. Overall, he felt better able to manage the impact of his experience. When distressed, he said “I am more in myself when it occurs.” He also described working to not let the trauma define him as much as he had in the past.   Barry said that the narrative reflected his experience well, though it was a “bummer.” We talked for a bit about how difficult it can be to see everything written out all at once, yet still helpful “seeing it laid out in a single cohesive narrative.” He also described feeling glad that the narrative was “still in line” with his experience, since as he is integrating parts, he is finding out more about his narrative that was previously unavailable to him. He had felt some anxiety that upon reading the summary, he would find it false, not from my influence but from his own telling. He was relieved to see that it was congruent, and it helped to “reconcile” his thought process and was very validating. He was engaging in consistent self-care, taking care of his health and trying to find a path forward.         84  Elizabeth Narrative Summary At the time of our interview, Elizabeth was 23 years old and described herself as a straight, White, cis-gender female living in the Pittsburgh area. As with all the interviews, we met virtually. Upon meeting Elizabeth, I was struck by her easy-going demeanor. She sat on the floor in her bedroom and was dressed cozily in a navy-blue sweater and black beanie. In introducing herself, she mentioned that she had one younger half-brother, currently in college, who had experienced childhood abuse alongside her. She described some of what she had been through: both of her parents had substance abuse issues, and so she spent a portion of her very early childhood being cared for by her grandmother before eventually moving in with her father. Her mother has, for the most part, remained out of her life, though they have had some contact recently as her mother has worked on her sobriety. She described how in her relationship with her father, she was “never enough.” From childhood on, she experienced a persistent pattern of verbal and emotional abuse from him and described her attempts to win his attention despite his domineering presence. Though she did everything she could to get him to play with her or interact positively, it was all for naught. There was a great deal of fighting in the home between adults and several visits from police. In addition to this he was physically violent, sometimes leaving bruises, though Elizabeth offered that she was not sure that he meant to hurt them, or perhaps he didn’t “realize the extent” of what he was doing. She described his ongoing need to monitor and control her, especially through those elements of her life and development that might have supported her independence. Having a driver’s license, for example, meant she could drive him places and run his errands. Going to college meant she would pursue the career path he        85  chose for her. When her grandmother passed, leaving Elizabeth $50,000, he pushed her into signing the money over to him. She hid a three-year long relationship from him because of his unreasonable standards for who was acceptable for her to date and described his use of gifts to keep her and her brother “attached.” Elizabeth explicitly labeled him a narcissist and said he “has to have control of everything, and it's his way or the highway.” She described feeling embarrassed to be seen with him in public for fear that people would assume that she is “just like him.”  Elizabeth then described her relationship with her brother. When they were younger, they did not get along—she “almost despised” him, in part because of the position he occupied (and still occupies) in the family—he was on a “longer leash,” and was permitted to do things like date. He was also popular in school, fit in more, and was their father’s “favorite” because he was a “mini him.” Elizabeth and her brother fought frequently. However, before going further into her description of the conflict between them, Elizabeth described the bond they shared: whenever there was fighting going on in the house, they would go to each other for comfort and hide together. She said she felt in those moments like she had to be a protector and also benefited from not feeling alone. She described an adolescence fraught with differential treatment, particularly in terms of the kinds of freedoms and restrictions they had underneath their father’s control.  As they have grown older, they have grown closer and bonded over what happened. Elizabeth’s understanding of her brother has also shifted. She described seeing herself as a wise protector, more developed and better able to understand their father, his abusive dynamics, and how to respond to them. Her brother, she said, needs more support in terms of understanding        86  himself and the dynamics with their father. While in the past, she “despised” her brother due to the apparent benefits he received from being the favorite, she also said she sees the two of them as sharing important experiences. They had different roles and expressed themselves differently, but Elizabeth shared how she felt connected to him through what they had survived in the past and were still dealing with as they were entering early adulthood. Now they are in a place where she tries to be helpful towards him, guiding him towards a better understanding of himself and how their history has impacted him.  Narrative Themes Differential Treatment: Gender & Control. One of the major themes in Elizabeth’s narrative is control—the different ways her father held (and still holds) a vice-like grip of control on her and her brother. She gave several examples of how it was directed at her, punctuated in part by how her hopes for independence were repeatedly crushed: As I got older I got my license, and, you know, starting to grow up, I thought, ‘oh wow! The license! I’ll be able to have some freedom.’ No, I was monitored where I went, what I was allowed to do. Um, and my license really was only to drive to school, and then I’d have to drive him everywhere. Go do errands for him. Both their vehicles were in their father’s name. Neither Elizabeth or her brother were allowed to have jobs, and when Elizabeth inherited a significant sum of money from her grandmother, he took it, saying it was “unfair” for her to have all of it, and he would keep it for her and her brother. Elizabeth identified financial control as a tool he used to keep them dependent upon him, and in this last case he used her brother as justification for his actions. Elizabeth described their situation as a dungeon or like being on a leash. While they both experience(d) this with        87  their father, Elizabeth showed how the control took a different shape for each of them and had different outcomes.   Throughout the narrative, Elizabeth and her brother had different experiences due to their gender. Elizabeth was not allowed to date or explore the world in the same way since she was assumed to be more in need of “protection” and could possibly get pregnant. According to Elizabeth, his sexism was fueled by the same overarching need for control. She said, “I think his drive and want for power and control is a reasoning for him to want to control women and have women serve him, and reasoning why he thinks men rule the world, I guess, and they can do as they please.”   Her brother, on the other hand, was taught to internalize harmful messages about masculinity and what it means to be a man. In childhood, his father put a lot of pressure on him to perform well in sports, but his criticism had a negative impact: Being a male and sports… he really had a hard time… he’d have a good day here and there that showed his actual potential. But my dad’s words… words that brought him down like, ‘Oh, you suck! You’re doing this by yourself to yourself, to spite me! Just do it! Why are you so stupid?!’ You know, all those negative words… affected him to the point where he was in his head so much…. I’m not saying he’s the best of the best, but he would have been more successful if he wasn’t beaten down to smithereens by my Dad’s words. As her brother got older, he was taught to suppress his emotions. Elizabeth said, “…this is just the way he was taught, you know, taught that men are the breadwinners of the house. The hard workers. They don’t have feelings. You just suck it up. Nobody cares about your feelings.”        88  Though her brother may have had more freedom in some ways, Elizabeth sees them both as victims of her father’s abuse: I know he struggles just as much as I do with it, regardless that he has a little bit different experience than I did. He feels the same things that I feel, he outwardly expresses it through anger. I outwardly express it through depression and anxiety. But…. it’s the same… the manipulation, the control, was still there for the both of us.  She described how she has grown to see her brother as having more in common with her than not and does not blame him for the fact that he has been on a “longer leash.” According to her:  At the end of the day, we still both go through the same things. Even though he may be allowed to do a little bit more. We still experience the same things, and we still feel it, and we may express it outwardly, a little different… I'm… leaning more towards happiness for him that he is allowed to do a little more than I than I could. Yeah, it's still, you know, makes me think like, ‘Oh, man, what would my childhood have been like if I had, you know, just as much freedom as my brother had?’ but it's not his fault. For both of them, she sees her father’s control as having an impact on their capacity to make choices for themselves:  I have trouble making decisions on my own, and I struggle tackling things on my own and making choices for myself, because it's not something I’ve done before… [my brother] is struggling. He’s got to make some choices for himself, and he hasn’t really had much opportunity to do so before. Despite the damage their father has done, she said neither she or her brother feel comfortable with leaving their father alone. She said, “we do both feel guilt about wanting to just get up and        89  leave and never come back… leave our dad behind. But at the end of the day… even though we know it would help our mental health, we don’t want to leave him alone.” Alliance. Over the course of Elizabeth’s narrative, there was a trajectory of growth in her relationship with her brother. At the beginning, their rivalry was bitter, and Elizabeth went so far as to say that they despised each other. She spoke to how their desire to gain approval from their father led them to compete and tattletale on each other, creating a sense of competition and hostility between the two of them. They would physically fight, and she also described taunting him and purposely leaving him out. He was, according to Elizabeth, a very angry child, on several occasions threatening her and his mother with a knife. However, along with the fighting, she talked about how there were moments of closeness and connection amid the turmoil of their household. For example, she said “when we were little, even though our relationship wasn’t as close as it is today… whenever the fighting was going on with parents or something like that, we would go hide in my closet together, or something similar, go hide somewhere together.” These seem to be initial points of resonance, where their shared experience helped to cultivate connection.   Later, they were able to build an alliance, working together to help each other have certain kinds of experiences in the face of their father’s unrelenting control. She described the shift over time, from enemies to allies:  As we got older we would cover for each other, like if he was actually going to a party but told Dad that he was just going over to his cousin’s to spend the night, I would cover for him, or, you know, vice versa. We protected each other, and still do… trusting each other with more confidential information, and making sure that our dad doesn't find out        90  that we're breaking off the leash and doing things… So we're helping each other experience things.  They “had each other’s backs,” covering for each other and advocating for each other when their father was being unreasonable. With time, more communication, and a greater shared understanding of what was happening to them in the home, they were able to get closer.  Elizabeth said that in the last couple of years they have been able to bond over what they experienced. Partially, she believes this has been possible because they have matured and their navigation of their emotions and understanding of themselves has shifted for the better: I think in childhood, both of our childhood/teen years, I think both of our emotions or the way we express what’s happening to us was more extreme than what it is now… He got into fights in school…My mental health was more extreme in high school than it is now because we've matured. We've understood more what's been going on. We've understood why we're having the emotions we're having… In childhood we came together when it was absolutely dire for us to, when there was active fighting going on and we were really scared. We had to go hide. So, childhood… we were reactive. Mm hmm. Adulthood we’re proactive in terms of protecting each other and looking out for each other. I think I'm a little bit more proactive. I tend to want to call more, check in on him more. But he's still a little bit younger than me and he's made a lot of progress. I think he's going to get up to the same level as I am. Together they can process and articulate how their father has affected them in terms of how they behave today and how they experience their emotions. For Elizabeth, this has been an essential        91  part of their bond—being able to share the work of identifying how Elizabeth’s fear, anxiety, and depression and her brother’s anger are all connected to the abuse they experienced.  However, Elizabeth also noted that a barrier to their closeness has been—and continues to be—her brother’s tendency to adopt some of their father’s way of thinking about the world:  Sometimes it is a little frustrating too… I guess this is just the way he was taught, you know… he still has that mentality, and it’s hard sometimes when I come to him with things that don’t necessarily involve my dad and I’m looking for some comfort, some reassurance or something. And he’s like, ‘Elizabeth, the real world’s not gonna care about your feelings.’ So I see my dad coming out in him in that way.  This seems to be a salient issue for Elizabeth in terms of how she sees her brother and her ability to connect with him. In her childhood and teen years, she was convinced that she and her brother would never truly be able to connect in a meaningful way because he was too much like their father: I was like pretty much sure my brother was just gonna end up like my dad... But over the last few years I don't know what happened. It's like an epiphany happened for him, and there’s—there was no significant thing that like, stuck out that caused him to realize things differently. But he just did, and he's not just acting like our dad. He's thinking for himself and trying to become who he wants to be, not who our dad wants him to be. So in childhood there was no hope of in my mind. I didn't think there was going to be any hope for us to have a really good relationship later on… But now our relationship has been really good.        92  It seems that an essential element of their being able to connect has been a process of individuation from their father—especially for her brother, who was the “favorite,” set up to be just like him. More recently, it seems that Elizabeth has seen herself as moving forward in her mental health journey, better able to understand what happened to them and some of the messages that she has internalized, seeing their history and their father for who he is. Her brother, on the other hand, still struggles with dealing with some of the emotional repercussions from the values that his father instilled in him regarding masculinity. According to Elizabeth, his anger is a primary issue: A part of his manipulation, his control, is that you're not allowed to show emotions, not allowed to show feelings. You're basically never allowed to cry… expecting males to be tough and not show anything is a reason why my brother has trouble expressing and understanding his feelings… You'll basically never see him cry. Yeah, all he says is he's angry… at this moment in time he doesn't know how to express all the feelings and emotions that fall under the category of anger.  Elizabeth’s hope in her brother is a key element to her continued commitment to their bond. She described the potential she sees in him and her desire to foster that, “I’m trying to help him learn with the knowledge I have today.”  Sense of Self: Protector, Corrupted  Elizabeth’s sense of herself has formed to a great degree because of her brother’s presence in her life and the dynamics of abuse that they both have endured. Early on, when they would hide together when their parents were fighting, she felt the need to be a protector for him, which is something she still identifies with today. He also acts as a protector for her, perhaps in        93  part because he is a man and their father values men’s opinions over women’s. She said, “I think he has a protector role. I know he feels bad for me, and tries to help me, in like controlling situations, tries to stick up for me, tries to explain to Dad, like ‘this is a good choice... Let her go do it.’” He will also try to fortify her when she is experiencing tough emotions—though his way of doing so is usually to encourage her to suppress them. Despite playing this protective role for each other, however, Elizabeth’s sense of herself in this role implies a level of self-sacrifice that doesn’t seem to be present for her brother: I'm the big sister. I'm supposed to take care of my little brother. I guess I feel like a protector, and I try to help people, no matter what… In general, like, I've been through it. Put me through it again to save somebody else to go through it. You know? I'll take the blows or the heat from my dad rather than him going through it… Especially now, where I have more wisdom surrounding mental health.  Here, Elizabeth highlighted how because she has more maturity and wisdom, this puts her in a better place to take on the pain of her father’s abuse. In imagining them both in the “dungeon” of their situation, she would rather it just be her—not her brother.  She went on to describe how this sense of herself as a protector has extended out into the way she engages the world more generally: So, I do have an advocate personality… when I’m really wronged, and other aspects of the world, or I noticed something really wrong. I will go try to advocate to fix it, like I’m pretty sure the school hates me because I’ve questioned so much of what they do… so you know if I’m advocating for something else, or someone else, I’m taking the blow there.        94   Taking on this role, not only as protector but as the one who “takes the blows,” seems to also be shaped by her sense of what she can expect from herself after the experiences she has had. On the one hand, she described understanding herself as being sturdier in some way, more capable of withstanding. On the other hand, she also shared deeper feelings about being corrupted:  I think another reason why I feel like I need to be the one to take the blows, because I feel like my chance of having my life for me, the way I want, and not be shaped and corrupted by my childhood experiences, is gone. I’m already corrupted by what I've gone through, and I don't think I have very little hope that there will be a day where my actions and thoughts are… not in some way manipulated and driven by my past childhood experiences. So I’m already like beat down, broken. So just keep piling it on and give somebody else a chance.  Though tempered to a small degree, there is a sense of hopelessness in how she talked about herself, a sense of being settled into the narrative she has been given. She said, “I think that chances for me... It's about gone. I'm not saying I can't, you know, get better or can't be more, okay, with everything. But it's almost just who I am.” There is a question, here, for Elizabeth, about who she is and what she is capable of. On the one hand, there is recognition of her father’s abuse and an ability to resist the sexist narratives she has been given. She has a sense of herself and her strength despite her history. We might also wonder how this more positive sense of herself works alongside her sense of herself as corrupt, and whether this corruption reflects an internalization of some of her father’s messages about her and her worth. The hopelessness she described for herself is also in stark contrast to the hope she described feeling for her brother.         95  Mixed Congruence: Control or Protection?  In many ways, Elizabeth and her brother seemed to agree on their history and its meaning. She said that they both saw each other as the favored child at different points in time. Currently, they can talk about their father, his abuse, and its impact on them. This has been significant for Elizabeth. She said, “I think he sees us as equal in terms of the cards… there is no more pushing and prodding him to see the reality of what's been going on for me, and it's similar to what was going on for him.” This ability to understand their situation in a congruent way offers validation. However, there were some points of contention between them regarding gender and differential treatment. When it came to their father’s control over Elizabeth in terms of who she could date, her brother took their father’s side in some ways. She said, “he doesn’t fully side with my dad, and you know, not wanting me to date or whatever. But he does defend my dad, in saying my dad is just trying to protect me.” This shift, towards identifying the control as protection, seems to invite a more ambivalent vision of their father as a figure in their story, with at least some possibly noble motives. When asked how she felt about his position, she sighed and said, “I don’t think it’s necessarily his fault that he thinks that way.”  Elizabeth further described how she understood her brother’s position as an issue of influence, and that eventually he would come to see it the same way she did—he merely had to grow and learn: I try to see all sides of the story. I’m a middleman, uh, people pleaser. I don’t like to be, go completely one side or completely to the other side. Don’t get me wrong, I wish my brother was more understanding. But I see why my brother calls my dad’s behavior protective, and I think he’s kind of in this transition where he will eventually see it as        96  controlling, as controlling behavior. But he’s kind of, you know, growing and learning on the way. Even with the clear negative impact it has had on her, she still attempted to see it from their perspective, perhaps, as she says, due to her position as “middleman” and “people pleaser.” However, ultimately, she remained connected to her sense of this stance as relating more to control than protection. She said:  It’s hard for me to see the protective side of it because I’m not a parent. I don’t know what it’s like to have a kid, and let them spread their wings… I still do think my dad very much thinks of me as this sweet little five-year-old girl running around or something, and just wants to protect me. I don’t think he rationally realizes that I am twenty-three years old. I’m an adult, like. When am I ever going to be allowed to live on my own? When am I ever going to be able to have a relationship? I try to see both sides… but I still think it’s very much more controlling, and to give him a gain, give my dad a gain of some sort. Holistic Analysis of Form: Enemies to Allies  The thematic form of Elizabeth’s narrative is defined by a progression from enemies to allies. There are no defining events that serve as turning points—instead, there seems to be a progression defined by growing maturity and a capacity for greater understanding of their situation. When they were younger, there was a great deal of antagonism between them, along with some moments of connection where they went to each other for comfort in the midst of the chaos. In adolescence, they both struggled to navigate difficult emotions and mental health concerns because of their experiences: for Elizabeth, anxiety and depression, for her brother, anger. However, they also had each other’s backs during this time, helping to support each other        97  so that they could have experiences out in the world despite their father’s control. This more basic sense of allyship has grown, especially in the past couple of years, as they have had more meaningful discussions about their father and his impact on them. This has coincided with her brother going to college. Throughout her narrative, Elizabeth was clear about how important his understanding of their story has been for her, and her connection to her brother has been a kind of propellant for her personal history.   Elizabeth’s narrative is cohesive in that it follows a trajectory towards the present day. She also made frequent connections that show how events were catalyzed. Her narrative seems to take the form of a comedy with a nonetheless tragic outcome—on the one hand, there is a hopeful move towards connection with her brother and greater wisdom around mental health. On the other, she seems to take on a position as a fallen figure, one meant for sacrifice—the best of intentions have led to a kind of ruin. However, her story also feels open ended in the sense that there are still several unanswered questions for Elizabeth. Will her brother come to a better understanding of her right to autonomy? Will he shed some of the beliefs he has internalized about gender and emotion? Will she eventually decide to leave her father behind and seek greater autonomy? These issues remain in flux.  Member Check  Elizabeth and I met for a member check interview about nine months after our initial meeting. After going over the summary and themes together, she said that it was representative of her experience and a lot has remained the same for her. Her brother is “still maturing” and sticking up for her, and she sticks up for him.         98  When asked about her experience in participating with the research, she said that it made her think a bit more critically about everything, “in terms of our relationship and how we grew up and whatnot. I even came to some realizations while talking to you. Talking through it helped me see it more clearly, put more of the pieces together. I believe it was therapeutic.” Though she acknowledged that bringing up these parts of her life can be rough emotionally, it wasn’t overly draining.  During our conversation, Elizabeth and I also discussed how her brother was not always a total ally to her—there was always a blending of allyship and conflict. This complexity further extends the argument for the sibling as a figure of ambivalence that is not easily categorized.  Mia Narrative Summary At the time of the interview, Mia was 27 years old and identified as a straight, Asian, cis gender woman. Mia chose to keep her camera off for our interview but had a picture of herself up. In it, she was smiling, the sun was shining, and she was surrounded by green grass. She signed in from California, and the picture evoked some of my own sun-drenched memories of my home state. During the interview, I was struck by her careful approach to the questions—she paused often to formulate her response before answering.  Mia has two older brothers, one three years older and one six years older. She began her story by explaining that she was born in Canada, where her father was earning his Ph.D. Eventually, they moved to South Korea where her family lived until she was 8 years old. At that point, they moved to California, which is where she currently resides, and where most of her childhood memories are. Mia described a conflicted upbringing, which was both “generally        99  good” in the sense that there was a lot of focus on education and they had a “decent upbringing.” However, this was overshadowed by domestic abuse. She described her father’s violent anger, which manifested in verbal abuse, throwing and smashing things, and acts of physical violence directed towards her mother and brothers. For Mia, something that stood out to her was the unexpected impact this had on her and her siblings. She described how even though one might imagine that conflict can bring people closer together, she and her siblings experienced the opposite. It was significant to her that there was a contradiction of expectations, a gap between what could have been or should have been and what was. This theme would carry itself across the rest of our conversation.   In describing her relationship to her siblings and their roles in the family, she defined herself as both the youngest and “Daddy’s girl.” She had a special, favored place. This was held in tandem with a tendency to get in the middle of family conflicts to try to stop them. She said, “I felt more comfortable when I was the one who got in the middle of those conflicts.” She shared one memory when, at about five years old, she stood up and tearfully told her father to stop when he raised his hand to hit her mother. Mia understood herself as the intermediary and the defender, in part at least because her mother was “meek” and a very traditional stay at home mom, unable to defend herself. In contrast, her middle brother was “always the one who avoided conflict.” He would retreat to his room, and though she would seek him out for comfort he was not receptive. Her eldest brother held a middle ground in her mind as someone who would occasionally be a part of the situation, but because they were children there were few opportunities to truly stand up for themselves, “…we just kind of sat there and took it.” She also described him as the “warmer”        100  brother—had he been around more, he is the one she would have been more likely to seek comfort from. When I asked her to describe the differential treatment a bit more, she discussed the cultural impact of age and gender. Her brothers, being older and male, were understood as being able to handle rougher treatment. She also described how in Asian culture, there are high achievement expectations as well as a normalization of a dominant male breadwinner as the head of a family. Mia and her brothers were expected to compete against one another to be the best and achieve more, and present themselves as “the overachieving, successful family.” The stigmatization of domestic violence and mental health issues like depression made it unacceptable to reach out about the realities they faced as a family. They were expected to put forward a perfect image to their church and family friends. In addition to these factors, Mia described her father as holding a lot of power as a professor in Korea, while her mother was traditionally submissive and isolated from her family. This “created an environment where abuse was enabled and able to continue.” As they got older, her eldest brother took on a new role filling their father’s shoes while he was intermittently gone in Korea teaching. With him out of the house, their mother would consult with Mia’s oldest brother on decisions. He also provided emotional support for their mother. Mia said that in adulthood, she is the only sibling who has “properly processed the trauma.” Her brothers, on the other hand, “buried it” and “used faith and religion as a coping mechanism.” She identified herself as the most sensitive person in the family, which for her meant that she was also the one most deeply affected in terms of her mental health. After experiencing depression that worsened in college, she sought therapy and other mental health resources. Her brothers, on the other hand, either weren’t hit “as hard” by the trauma, or simply        101  didn’t address it due to social pressures of masculinity that made it hard to be vulnerable and accept help for the impact of the trauma.  Mia shared that she held a lot of resentment towards her brothers, but also understood how that resentment was at least partially misdirected. On the one hand, she blamed her parents for not helping them cultivate strong sibling bonds. Additionally, she discussed feeling that she had been failed by both her parents and her brothers in terms of being protected, but that ultimately she shouldn’t have had to rely on her brothers for her needs. For Mia, the responsibility truly lies more with their father. In addition to these difficult feelings, she also discussed the positive moments they shared, playing games and throwing a ball around outside.   In adulthood, they took on different understandings of their father and what happened, and their conversations generally focus on things she considers superficial such as their progression through school or promotions at jobs. In comparison to her brothers, their abuse history is Mia’s “life’s main story,” something she has spent a great deal of time processing and overcoming. They seem to have “tucked [it] away in a box.” She described seeing herself as very independent but also lonely, with no one to hold her narrative alongside her in a supportive way. Mia also talked about how she was finally getting to a place of clarity about what happened in their family. Without her brothers’ support or the opportunity to process with them, she felt a lot of confusion for much of her life about who she was and what her family was like. She described feeling like she was finally beginning to really discover who she is, and while the process was “lifesaving and liberating,” it was isolating because “nobody else but you is on that journey and can understand it.”         102  Narrative Themes Isolation: Walls Built High. A central theme in Mia’s narrative was alienation. From the very beginning, she described a sense of being on her own with her feelings and making sense of what was happening in their home. One example she gave was how when her father would be abusive, when she wasn’t trying to intervene, she would go to her middle brother’s room for comfort. She recalled that he was never really interested in connecting or talking about what was happening, “he was just, very much… Wanted to keep to himself. Not really interested in stopping it or talking about it.” While perhaps still a comfort, her need for connection in those difficult moments was greater than what he offered her, and she felt alone with her experience.  Mia named terrible communication and a lack of connection as two of the most salient outcomes of the trauma her family experienced:  There’s a lack of connection there. There’s a lack of trust. There’s a lot of walls that we’ve built up. There is no, like, safe space within our family. And you can argue that’s, that’s like a big outcome. One of the outcomes of the trauma and that environment. Right? There is no safe space. And we could not, we were not able to form one amongst ourselves, even though in an ideal world that could have happened. Right? But no, it was every kid for himself, you know, and herself. And so there is no reliance, no sharing of pain. She also named cultural factors as having a hand in shaping their isolation, mostly due to stigma around domestic violence and mental health. This siloed their family away from possible support:        103   I would say culturally… It was very stigmatized… Because we went to church and we have family friends… they had no idea that this was happening. Because it was so shameful. No, we wanted to be the overachieving, successful family. With the kids that were smart and accomplished and whatever. So I think that made it worse, too, that we couldn't—we had to keep up this image of a perfect family, but that clearly was not so… I think also what explains the lack of my two brothers seeking help is, and me, it took a long time too, is because like even naming things like depression was like so wrong, and so unaccepted. Mia shared that her siblings had a hand in shaping her as an independent person as well as a lonely one. On the one hand, she saw her independence as a positive thing—it was what had helped her to think about her situation and gain clarity about what happened, even though she understood things differently from her brothers. However, she also struggled with her longing to connect with her brothers in a deeper way: I guess loneliness is a big one because… Growing up with siblings, but each coping in their own way and self-soothing in their own way, it’s led to a lot of isolation. And to this day… I have yearned for closer relationships with them, you know, because of what we’ve been through and… but you know, for many reasons, because of so many differences and the lack of vulnerability and connection there. Yeah, there’s just a lot of ‘what could have been,’ what could have been a very, you know, mutually helpful and positive support system is just not there. And maybe even more negative. We might consider this focus on “what could have been” as a form of grieving lost potentials for her relationships with her brothers. Mia’s narrative touched on a central issue in the human        104  condition: the need to be an independent self, capable of knowing one’s own mind and acting accordingly, and a need to connect and to be one with others.  Responsibility and Resentment. Another central theme in Mia’s narrative appeared to be that of resentment and responsibility. She began her narrative by describing how her situation defied her expectations:  You know, when you watch movies or when you read about things, you think that there’s this idea that conflict brings siblings closer together and that it kind of bonds them and it puts them on the same side. But what I’ve discovered is that it has done the opposite for me. Just based on how we dealt with it individually and how it kind of interacted in our environment, it has led to like, I don’t have a relationship with them and it's been like a very negative thing. At various points, it was made clear that unmet hopes and expectations form the crux of much of her experience with her brothers. However, she also demonstrated a sense of conflict around her own resentment and where responsibility lies: When my mom was being abused, why didn't they stand up for her? Because, you know, my little brother was hiding in his room. My oldest was probably at college. Right? I was the one who spent the majority of the time, being the youngest… Or my oldest brother was probably, if he was there, he was also probably terrified. So it's like, I can't blame a kid for not doing that. Right? But at the same time, like, that happened and also, why weren't they there for me emotionally, right? Like, there was never any sort of talking about it. We just bottled it up, you know, dealt with the hurt on our own. But we never,        105  never talked... Because I think also there wasn't a solution. It's not like talking about it we could… there was never a ‘so what do we do from here?’ Right? Because we were kids. She went on to discuss this sense of resentment and its possible misdirection. Though she felt failed by both her parents and her brothers, she also wrestled with ambivalence about how much they could be held responsible versus her father. She said: Everyone was relying on each other for the wrong reasons and like in a very toxic way… my mom was relying on my oldest, who, she shouldn't have been doing that. Like, that's incredibly burdensome for him. And I'm sure that had a lot of impacts that we don't, you know, readily see… and then I shouldn't have had to rely on my brothers for what I needed out of therapy, ultimately, right? So it's like there's all this blame… Like, ‘you should have been there for me’... But then that's kind of... in a way, like, misdirected. Because ultimately, who caused that? Like my dad, right? He caused all of this pain and suffering and… messed up all these dynamics. So, it forced us to, like, kind of go to the wrong things for support.”  In this part of her narrative she connected to how the abusive dynamics in the home, though perhaps catalyzed by her father’s abuse, extended beyond his actions and bled into relationships between other family members.  There also seemed to be a question for Mia about how much responsibility they held as children versus as adults, having a shared history and yet offering no support. Throughout the narrative, Mia shifted between seeing her brothers as vulnerable figures like herself to resentment that they did not take more responsibility for supporting her. She shared some of        106  these difficult feelings: “Like, I have resentment. I have blame… You know, you were my brothers. You are my brothers. Where is the support? Like, where is the care for me?” At one point, she also mentioned that the alienation she felt from her brothers was perhaps a result of her parents’ failure to facilitate their connection. She said, “I think a lot of resentment that I feel towards them… should actually be directed towards my parents… they never really emphasized or valued good relationships between siblings…they never taught us you should support each other. You should be there.” Sense of Self: The Favorite, the Defender/The Most Deeply Affected Mia’s sense of herself was articulated across her narrative in a few different ways. Initially, she was very clear about how when she was younger she was their father’s favorite. This position gave her leeway that her brothers did not have, and she made room for the possibility that her brothers resented her, perhaps subconsciously, because of this differential treatment. She said: I think the specific resentment they have is that I was treated differently by my dad... I got that special treatment because I’m a girl, because I’m the youngest... and my dad and I also just had a closer relationship because we’re the most similar in our family. So I think they feel like, bitter about that. Subconsciously, I’m sure they’re not like broken up about it like 20 years later, but it’s still something that… affects the way, it colors the way they interact with me…  they are less lenient, less forgiving because of that. Right. Because of that like, ‘why did you get treated better?’        107   She also described how as a little girl, she “had no ethics. Like, I enjoyed that, right? I’m sure I used it for my personal agenda, like I would get them in trouble if they, you know, annoyed me or whatever. And so there was that.” Mia described her mother as “very meek… she was a victim… the traditional wife, right? The home stay Mom” and also described her brothers, particularly her middle brother, as avoidant. They seemed to serve as a foil for her more active position as defender. She was the one who stood up to their father, even though she was only four years old. Just as she was the more active sibling in terms of stepping in to stop the violence, she also saw herself as the more active sibling in terms of processing and figuring out the truth of what happened to them as a family: It’s both voluntary and involuntary. Like for them, their lack of involvement was both, right, it was physical presence. And then it was also a decision on their behalfs not to get involved. And then for me it was like I 100% chose to become involved because I want to protect my mom. I care about her, if I’m not there, like, who knows what’s going to happen, right? And so, uh, and then also involvement in terms of like trying to understand my dad and like all the factors and where he came from and trying to really get to the root of the problem and do a deep exploration into my family. However, she also described seeing herself as the most sensitive sibling, and the one most deeply affected by the trauma, having struggled with depression as a result. This seems to have made things more difficult for Mia, however, she also pointed out that its deep impact on her is part of what pushed her to seek therapy and recognize the truth of their family dynamics. She described herself as both independent and deeply lonely, having to process this all on her own.          108  Mixed Narrative Congruence: The Source of their Father’s Abuse Something that Mia circled back to several times over the course of our time together was the differing perspectives she and her brothers had in terms of their father. In one way, they had the same understanding of their situation. She said, “for this, it’s pretty clear who the villain is, right? So I think in that regard, like, we see the same.” However, they had differing perspectives in terms of the cause of their father’s behavior. In childhood, they would work together to try and understand him. According to Mia: I remember a lot of times like we would huddle together and talk about the issue, we did, cause we were like, “what’s wrong with Dad?” Every time he comes to visit us…. He’s just becoming so violent and angry, like and we would theorize, we would get together and we’d be like, so, ‘I don’t know what it is, but I read about this and I read about this disorder online, like, is he like bipolar? So we would try to assess the issue. As they got older, however, Mia’s perspective grew to be clearly divergent from theirs. She said she didn’t think that they were able to see the abuse and trauma for “what it was”: Ultimately, they thought it was like a medical thing, like he just can’t control his anger and like, there must be something that just snaps and he needs to take medicine for it… it didn’t dawn on us as kids that it’s like. He was just being a piece of shit and he was enabled. Excuse the language, but he made those decisions, right? But I think as kids we were trying to find excuses because it just did not make sense to us. Like how he could go from being the kindest person, because he was a good father 90% of the time. But it’s when he would get angry that he would just flip and become a monster and like, throw        109  things and smack. And then he would go back to being kind and then he’d feel bad about it… So the cycle continued. For Mia, the logic of his behavior being something outside his control related to a childhood need to “make excuses” for his behavior, perhaps to make sense of it in a way that didn’t place blame squarely on their father. This may be linked to the positives they saw in their father—the fact that he was “good” so much of the time. Attempting to hold these opposites—that he could be both kind and good as well as inexplicably angry and violent—would be difficult to navigate.  Another difference she cited was her brothers’ belief that his behavior had religious causes: The fact that he hadn’t met Jesus. You know, it’s like a faith thing. If he was truly a Christian, he would not act in those ways. But because he doesn’t go to church and all of that… And I think that’s complete B.S., right, like I see it for what it is. I see a whole host of factors that led to him being that way. You know, he grew up in an abusive household. He watched his father do the same thing… people when they grow up in those sorts of environments, they either choose to not be that way, right, to become the opposite, or they learn and become the same person. And that’s what he chose to do. A key difference in their perspectives seems to lie in the realm of responsibility. Mia described understanding his abusive behavior as a choice—he chose to repeat the behaviors of his own abusive father, repeating a cycle of trauma. Her brothers understood it as something outside of his control. According to Mia, this difference in understanding has also led to differences in how they hold their common past:        110  They are willing to more attribute it to outside external things… it’s just we just got unlucky with the kind of dad we got and he has a medical condition and disorder that led him to do this. And that’s just a piece, you know, that they just kind of like file it away like that. But, what they maybe can’t see like—wait, this is a huger deal than that. And its had all of these different impacts and effects on everything, like my relationships and how I view life and all of the self-worth. We may think about how this ultimately connects to another aspect of Mia’s sense of herself and her story—the theme of isolation. Specifically, how Mia has had to put together her past in an understandable way in therapy and on her own. She said, “I know they’re not going to get it or see things from my perspective… I think I’ve given up on that. So you know, there’s a lack of connection there… And so there is no like, reliance, no sharing of pain...”  For Mia, neither sibling offered her support in coming to these conclusions, and this meant that she spent a lot of time feeling confused before seeking therapy and starting her own journey towards understanding. She said,  If you had met me like a few years ago, I think I still would have been in a very confused state of like, I don’t know who I am. I don’t know why I’m here. Like, I don’t know what my family is like. I don’t know why things happened the way… so. I think in relation to like the way in terms of the way my siblings, you know, impacted me is, is that confusion… they didn’t offer like, proper explanations… There was no support. There was no processing together of like, okay like maybe it’s not us… there was no figuring it out together because we were on such separate journeys that, yeah, for the longest time and even today, arguably, like, there is confusion I’m still figuring out because a lot of        111  the journey here was trauma responses and you know, our personalities and our people pleasing and all of that was derived of that. This process of coming to build a meaningful narrative—not just of events, but of the meanings and causes of those events—seems to have been a process fraught with ambivalence for Mia. We might think back to her discussion of independence as an important part of who she is, alongside the loneliness that came with a narrative alienated from the way her brothers understood things. She described her experience: It’s incredibly hard and isolating because nobody else but you is on that journey and can understand it…I’ve had to reinvent everything and like. Take all the crap out of the house, right? Like, mentally and emotionally. I’ve had to just do this whole cleaning house thing… Trying to put things back where they belong. And so… but it’s, you know, on the flipside, it’s obviously been lifesaving and liberating and I can see things for what they are. I feel less encumbered. The metaphor of a house seemed particularly apt as an image, and while understanding the nuances would require Mia’s input, we can imagine it perhaps as an image of the self, for her history and the center of her place in the world. She was touching on this process of cleaning out what no longer serves, the refuse of her past, to put herself and her history back in a way that created a sense of order and ultimately freedom.  Holistic Analysis of Form: Stable Disconnection Mia’s narrative was initially brief and was collaboratively deepened over the course of our time together. It was also cohesive. Though we might think of her personal journey towards mental health as having a narrative form more like a progression—from turmoil and confusion to        112  depression and then finally to a more stabilized sense of self and history—the overall concern of her brothers within her narrative seems to take the form of a stable, straight line. Both will be discussed.  Mia began on an ambivalent trajectory, with her childhood being good in some ways, with a “decent upbringing”, yet marked by the turmoil of her father’s violence, which worsened in California. This period seemed to be stably unstable—her father’s visits and outbursts of violence contrasted with a generally “decent” upbringing. She was hit hard by depression at the beginning of college, and again a few years later, marking a significant downturn. However, this served as an essential turning point: So it took me getting kind of at the worst, right? Like hitting rock bottom to be like, uh… I don’t want to live like this anymore. There is something majorly wrong with me. I’m super broken. And like, I had all of this messed up mentality right, due to that. And that’s what kickstarted this process of like, I want to do something about it.  She began studying psychology and seeking other resources like therapy. This marked another ambivalent part of her journey—while she came to recognize and gain clarity about things about her history and herself, she was also further differentiating herself from her parents and her brothers. She was doing something different, seeking a new way of living and understanding which set her apart from them. In the end, the life-saving and unencumbering process of this journey was bittersweet because she had to do it alone, and it was still in progress.  A driving force in her narrative was her longing for deeper connection and resonance with her brothers. Despite the progress that she has made, one gets the sense that this ultimate desire was thwarted by their differing response to their shared history. Though there were some points        113  where they did connect—for example, in trying to figure out what was wrong with their father, or the lighter moments of play—ultimately, Mia described their relationships as distant. There was a lack of emotional presence and support in childhood, and this extended into adulthood. Because of this, her narrative, though perhaps in some ways a romance (as the protagonist, she walks away with new wisdom and gains clarity and freedom), is perhaps more recognizable as irony. The natural order of things has been subverted—those brothers which she should have been able to rely on did not offer support—and she had to do the best she could. It is, perhaps, telling that there seems to be a kind of split narrative structure here, in the sense that it relates to something about Mia’s personality, her way of relating to the world. She identified as being both independent and lonely—and this played itself out in the structure of her narrative. Her independence ultimately lead her to better mental health—a progressive narrative—while her lack of connection to her brothers and continued longing for that connection gave a sense of stagnancy.     Member Check  Mia unfortunately did not respond to requests to participate in the member check interview. Mark Narrative Summary Mark signed on to Zoom from Florida wearing a navy-blue t-shirt, his dark hair pulled back. He described himself as a 38-year-old straight, White, cis gender male. He had a grounded presence and spoke in deep, even tones. Mark told his story by first giving background on his parents and their upbringing, acknowledging the way that his story was rooted in their history.        114  He began his narrative by describing his father as a “full blown sociopath. He’s a very unwell person.” His father was raised in the south of Virginia and had always been “weird”—he killed small animals as a child among other unusual behaviors. Religion was a big part of his father’s life, and he would eventually become a prominent church figure. However, he was also a victim of molestation by his organ teacher and other church figures in childhood. Mark’s mother was originally from New York, but her family moved to Virginia when she was eight years old. The pair met in high school and were married. The couple eventually moved to Savannah, Georgia, which is where his sister was born, and then Mark was born two years later. When Mark was about four years old, his mother went to Phoenix for a month to set up a new life for them. She got Mark’s father a job as a church director and found them a place to live. Mark remembered that time she was gone as the first time he was left alone with his father and sister, who takes after their father. He described how his father told him and his sister that their mother was abandoning them, knowing that wasn’t actually the case. In describing him, Mark said, “all he ever did was gaslight.” He also recalled his father and sister bullying him in his mother’s absence.   When their mother returned, Mark was initially hesitant around her and then clung to her and would not let her return him to his father for the rest of the day. Mark has spoken to his mother about this since, and from her perspective it felt as if “something had changed.” This set the scene for what Mark would come to describe—a family dynamic of repeated manipulation from his father and sister and his mother’s abandonment of him. From his perspective, a continuous theme of his childhood was his father actively trying to hurt people while his mother—though well intentioned—was ineffective in mitigating the damage.        115   Mark described how after the move to Phoenix, his father’s behavior got worse, and his mother filed for divorce. This led to a period of great instability. Both he and his sister were molested by people outside the family as well as possibly inside the family. Mark detailed how he experienced a great deal of isolation, emotional abuse, and manipulation from their father while their mother was only present on and off. She was otherwise occupied with housing instability and two different marriages, the most recent of which was to Mark’s stepfather who was “also an asshole,” and who contributed to Mark’s neglect. According to Mark, his father had a deeply involved and complicated relationship with the Church, characterized by his continual attempts to achieve a certain image that conflicted with his true self. Mark also discussed how his father likely embedded himself within the music community of southern churches because he was gay and found safety there.   There was also instability during that time in terms of custody, and when his father got primary custody that “was like a nail in the coffin” in terms of creating conditions for abuse. He saw his mother as fortunate to escape and start a new, reasonably functioning family, but Mark felt like an outsider on that side of the family. It was as if he was caught between two worlds, “I never really felt like I belonged there… that was the kind of split that I had, these two worlds to live in.” He described how his father’s control and abuse escalated—he was verbally abusive and emotionally manipulative. Mark also said that his father was, at times, inappropriately suggestive with him. When Mark was about five and his sister seven, she began sexually abusing him, which is something he said he repressed until he was an adult. In discussing her as a figure in his childhood, he described her as extroverted and active in ways that he wasn’t. He wanted to look        116  up to her and have a good relationship, but they were never able to form a solid, positive connection.  Any time she would offer him something resembling kindness or connection, he would “end up being on the losing end.” He qualified this with the fact that she also held several mental health diagnoses.  While his sister drew a lot of attention for her misbehavior, Mark was expected to “just be good.” This seems to be something that carried over with his other siblings, as well. His younger brother, Evan, from his mother and stepdad, was born with severe disabilities that required attention. His other brother Nate was his stepfather’s favorite, garnering positive attention that way. Ultimately, Mark saw himself as “the one who never got the attention.” He was also painfully shy, which, for a time, resulted in his sister speaking for him. He also described how she was jealous of him because he didn’t get punished as much as she did. When they went to visit their mother and stepfather, the differential treatment was clear—their mother trusted Mark more around Nate and Evan. Mark described one situation that illustrated some of the tensions in the home in their childhood. When Evan was a baby he slept in Mark’s room, which was frustrating for Mark as there was some expectation that he would help care for his brother (Mark was only eight at the time). On more than one occasion, Mark’s sister attempted to kidnap the baby. He said, “she snuck out the windows, crawled across the awning and tried to, she was knocking on the window, like, ‘let me in, I want to take Evan, I’m gonna run away.’ He’s like one years old… I didn’t know how to deal with that stuff.”  In describing his relationship at that time with his brothers, he beamed with pride, happy that he “got to be a big brother” and was able to look out for Evan. He described several positive memories of playing with his siblings and other kids in the cul de sac. Even his sister would play        117  with them and have fun, until she would “take it too far and do something bad.” Nate often stayed inside because of his asthma, and was also “an angry little child sometimes… He was a brat. And because he was the favorite, he could get away with it.” He also described how he developed a sense of needing to protect his brothers—Evan in particular—from their sister.  As they got older, the dynamics in his father’s household shifted, and his sister and father began to fight frequently. Mark described family trips to Charlottesville as a rare bright spot in a long period of abuse. Their mother would allow their father to take them on these trips, provided he dropped them off at their maternal grandparents’ home. When they were there, his sister was slightly more mellow, and Mark enjoyed being away from parents and just spending time with grandparents and cousins.  As he got older, Mark grew tall and strong, embodying the masculinity that he saw his father aspiring to but not achieving. Mark said, “he was pretending to be like, masculine, and I was masculine.” Mark attributes his size and strength with the fact that his physical safety was on his “own terms,” and he was no longer afraid of his sister or father. His sister also seemed to take notice of his growth. He said, “as I got bigger and stronger, she kind of like seemed to resent me for that.” He described how she would abuse him, push him, or try to instigate something and then go tell on him. On one occasion, she chased him around the house with a knife. Though he wasn’t afraid, he recognized that she was really trying to be violent, “that was one of those moments where I was like, my sister really is very unstable.  His sister grew to be a very “disobedient and dangerous young person,” despite family efforts to contain her. On one occasion when Nate was crying, she threw a metal Hot Wheels at him, leaving a gash on his forehead. His mother called the police, and she was arrested. The        118  court declared her incorrigible at the age of 15 and she became a ward of the state. After she was out of the house, their father began to concentrate more on Mark. This did not go well, and when Mark was 17, he left his father’s house to move in with his mother.   Mark does not currently speak to his sister. In adulthood, they tried off and on to maintain a relationship to no avail. He described how they developed a pattern where she would come to him for help but was never there for him in return. They would begin to get close, things would be okay—even positive—and then it would fall apart. Once they got past their early 20’s, “she would usually just sabotage and hurt and run away.” The last straw for Mark was when they last spoke, six years prior. Mark reached out because he had started using alcohol and his sister had experience in AA programs. Instead of offering help, she turned around and told their mom, which he said led to the end of their relationship. Initially he was close to his two brothers from his mother’s marriage to his stepfather. He said that the younger of the two is no longer responsive to his texts and the older one, who was born with physical disabilities, autism, and went on to develop schizophrenia, attacked him a few months before the interview, which led to an end of communication. Mark described how after he suffered some serious health issues, he had to move into his mother’s place for care. Over time, this built tension between him and his stepfather, who spoke ill of him. Mark believes that his stepfather speaking ill of him is the reason why his brother attacked him. Towards the end of our interview, he said: A lot of terrible things happened. A lot of uncomfortable things happened. But it is what it is, as they say, you now. I’ll maybe get to mend certain relationships in time. I have to focus on myself right now, I have to do what I have to deal with.        119  Narrative Themes Loyalty and Betrayal. A driving force of tension in Mark’s narrative was the thematic pull between loyalty and betrayal. Mark talked about this as a major pattern between himself and his sister—while he was loyal to her, she always betrayed him. He mentioned some of the ways he understood his Christian roots as represented in this way of engaging:  It wasn’t just that, like, needing to please. But it was also genuinely, I pitied them and I wanted to protect them. I kept their secrets and stuff like this, you know they’d never kept mine... I defended them. They never defended me, that kind of thing. There’s a sense of duty, you know, I’m not Christian. We were raised heavily Christian environments, Christian Schools, churches and stuff… I did try to take those principles to heart. Throughout his narrative, he placed loyalty to family as a key value that he embodied even though it wasn’t something given to him in return. This loyalty despite a lack of reciprocity was still sustainable for Mark in large part due to his understanding of his father and sister as being in pain—that their cruelty came from a kind of suffering. He explained: I mean, I was loyal to everybody in my family, whichever side, I guess I felt like that was always important. I didn’t want to blow other people’s covers. I started to realize that at a young age that they were both suffering somehow like that was years away from starting to be able to define it, really comprehend it. But I could tell that they were both just like to be that, that that kind of wicked, you have to be hurting inside. He remained loyal to them in action as well as the way he understood them—it was a long time, he said, before he recognized what was happening as abuse, partially due to shame and embarrassment, but also due to a sense of loyalty. While it was unclear how he would perhaps        120  explain this, it is possible that acknowledging the abuse at first felt like a kind of betrayal, or may have disrupted the only attachment system he had available to him—something that could feel potentially catastrophic to a child. This seemed to represent a kind of struggle between the narrative that is internalized and passed down and the alternative perspective that pushes for an acknowledgment of abuse.   As he and his sister grew, he sensed her resentment of him. Despite her abuse, he “always tried to help her. I always tried to look out for her and stuff. She always betrayed me.” Even though she was very much like their father, he wanted to respect her and trust her, and at several points he mentioned wanting to build a more positive relationship with her. This inevitably left him in pain: I would always get fooled, you know what I mean? She would always like, she would continually come in, ‘oh, everything’s gonna be cool. You know, I’ll give you a cool thing or show you a cool thing, or bring you around my cool friends’ or something that always I would end up being on the losing end. And I do understand that she went through lots and lots of stuff too, like me… she always had diagnoses, ADD, this kind of thing, that kind of thing. Bipolar, whatever it was. Even in describing her abuse and the difficult dynamic between them, he is careful to qualify his statements with his understanding of the context that contributed to her behavior.   By the time they were in their early twenties, Mark was more stable than his sister, and they developed a pattern where she would go to him for help (a place to stay, money, food, etc.) and he would oblige. She was unable to reciprocate. They would begin to get close and then she would betray his trust or use him in some way, sabotaging the situation:        121  It would always hit a point where she would betray me and flip out and do whatever she could to just run back away. But we would go through periods where she would open up to me and talk to me like we were close. Like we were friends, like we were siblings, and maybe go out hang out with some of her friends every once in a while. She's always been very social and had a lot of friends but they have rotated a lot throughout the years as well. So in my early 20s, it was like that she was kind of unstable for a while. As they entered their mid-twenties, Mark was less patient with her. The last time they spoke, he went to her for help because he had started to use alcohol regularly, and his sister had some experience with AA programs. He said, “I reached out to her and asked for help. Instead of offering any assistance, she texted our mom, that was her like, golden opportunity to throw me under the bus or something. Yeah, and then we never talked again.” Mark acknowledged that her continued betrayals had a big impact on him and having her out of his life has been positive: I feel free, I finally feel free. I love my sister in a way, I think, in a way I do. But I feel free of her because she’s a terrible person. She has no remorse. And I just dealt with it my whole life. It shaped…who I am, on top of our parents being abusive or neglectful, or other types of things, her always trying to not just exploit me, but to lure me in… it always just exacerbated, always just increased all the traumatic things that I experienced to offer some kind of a safety connection, and then, you know, violently smashing it to bits, right? This theme was also relevant to his brother Evan. Though his description of their relationship was overall much more positive, their recent falling out marked another betrayal after Mark’s continuous loyalty and support. Mark had consistently played a protective, supportive role for        122  him. He described how “Evan, especially, having learning disabilities and physical handicaps and stuff, got picked on once in a while. When I could, I would, you know, defend him and protect him and stuff.” After he got in an accident, Mark was unable to continue offering the same support. Evan eventually attacked him. In expanding his description of his brother, he also discussed how his brother’s jealousy acted as a catalyst for conflict between them, even before their falling out: He was always two faced as well given enough time. He was always jealous that I was able to he wanted to do things like I did. He wanted to drink and smoke cannabis and stuff. I’m, you know, seven months, plus sober now, my dad started to depend on alcohol, cannabis way too much. As my son’s birth approached, I’ve gotten to therapy, I’ve quit drinking and stuff like that. But he was always jealous that I could do those things… I always got close to my brother when I could, but he always kind of did this thing my sister did too, eventually he will try to rat you out. I’ve ratted him out for tons of stuff, because I’m a supervisor of his, I’m a steward of his. So it's been my responsibility to monitor him in certain ways. Here he distinguished between his brothers “ratting out” and his “ratting out,” based upon the roles that they played for each other and in the family. He also went on to describe how not saying anything about his brother’s weed smoking likely contributed to a recent psychotic break he had.   His loyalty extended not just to his siblings, but to his parents as well. He lived with his father until he was 17, despite his mother’s invitations to live with her. His explanation for staying included his loyalty to his father and his sense that his stepfather did not truly want him        123  in their home. Though he did not directly state that his mother betrayed him in any way, he did mention her consistent abandonment and neglect of him. We might wonder if he would label her inaction as a kind of betrayal as well—she did not stand up to Mark’s stepdad, for example. There was another story that Mark shared about his mother’s first marriage after her divorce from his father. The whole family—his mother, stepfather, sister, stepbrother, and Mark—-were all sitting around to watch a move together. Mark, who was four at the time and usually quiet, was having a hard time settling down: I guess I was a little talkative. I was moving around and wouldn’t sit still. Very uncommon for me. My mother should have fuckin’ thought about that. But they told me to be quiet a few times. And I didn’t, I guess I was just so excited to have a family. I didn’t really know at that time that that’s what I was feeling. I was just like, I’m gonna watch the movie. This is great. But as an adult reviewing it, I’m like, no, it was the whole list. The safety, was the community. There was a sense of belonging. And then watching the movie, in the parents’ bed, all of us the kids and everything, and they sent me to my room, because I wouldn’t sit still and calm down, I guess. And I was talking for once. And my room was right across, our room was right across the hallway, so I could hear them all enjoying themselves and watching the fucking movie the whole time. Yeah. And I cried and cried and cried. And nobody came in, they just told me to shut up. And I hated it. (laughs) I remember feeling such rage and anger, like I felt so hurt and sad. And that was just rage at how cruel they were all being and how insensitive, they didn’t care that I was hurting so much. I remember that, those fucking bastards.        124  This seemed to be a particularly painful memory for Mark to relay, in large part perhaps because of his sense that his mother should have recognized that his behavior was out of character and perhaps intervened, though this remains unspoken. This seemed to mark another moment in his life where the promise of safety, belonging, and connection were ripped away from him. It seems notable, also, that Mark laughed while describing his rage, hurt, and sadness. We might wonder what this gestures to in terms of how Mark experiences and manages these painful emotions about family, especially given his role as “the good one.”  In spite of all of the abuse, neglect, and betrayal he relayed in his narrative, Mark also made a point at the end about repairing relationships to his family: Life is wild, and a lot of terrible things happened. A lot of uncomfortable things happened, but it is what it is, as they say, you know, I’ll maybe get to mend certain relationships in time, I have to focus on myself right now. I have to do what I have to deal with. I love these people. I hate some of the things that they do, I do. Whatever, it’s life, it’s complex, especially for someone like me, but I love all these people. They’re my family.  This last comment may link back to Mark’s sense of himself as ultimately loyal to his family. It also seems to be the case that he wrestles with holding this position of loyalty in the face of his rage and pain. Identification and Repetition. Throughout Mark’s narrative, he frequently referred to cycles of repetition that occurred as a result of alignment with the previous generation. In discussing this dynamic more broadly, Mark made a comment about repetition as a part of human nature, something that is culturally shaped and constrained:        125  To see human nature, these things are common, these things repeat generation after generation, era after era… to have this kind of insight into these southern White, male, Christian communities where things like child abuse and misogyny are rampant… it’s a real facet of humanity in our culture in our time.  This pointed to how Mark understood his family dynamics as embedded within a larger cultural pattern.  Another way that Mark brought in this theme of repetition was in his description of his sister’s identification with their father. She had adopted a similar way of engaging the world, including abusing Mark in childhood. Mark, on the other hand, identified strongly with his mother’s side of the family. He understood his family dynamics in terms of these templates that had been passed down as well as behaviors and beliefs that were adopted and then acted out. He frequently described his sister in the same terms as his father, that she had embraced being a selfish, cruel, and manipulative person who lacked empathy. He also cited this as a reason for his sister’s continued connection to their father despite many reasons to cut him off: They're so much like each other. That's one of the reasons she couldn't get away from him for years. Even as an adult, she kept coming back to him even though every therapist she had told her to cut contact. Well, I don't want to sound mean, but for my own recovery, I have to say, fuck off. Yeah, I wish the best. I hope the best for my sister, but I don't want to talk to her. Don't like her. She doesn't have empathy.  In this passage, he pointed out their similarity and connection and also his disconnection from them and purposeful separation in order to halt the impact on his mental health. He later described his sense that there may be some genetic component to their difference:        126  I will make a note that she and my dad look alike. And me and my mom look alike. It is, it's always been kind of like, split down the middle. My dad has, his family has a history of this kind of, I don't know what exactly… his mother, his grandmother, and then like two of his aunts all seem to have the same kind of mental illness, very abusive, just terrible people. And they all kind of look the same too, skinny with a certain face, they're all blonde… I have darker hair like my mother and features like her and my younger brother, from my half-brother, our baby pictures are like indistinguishable, so I clearly have some kind of genetic affinity for her side of the family or something, and I act very differently. So that's always, that was always kind of weird. But um, my sister was extroverted, active in ways that I wasn't when I was like, shy, introverted. Along with being very much like their father, especially in how Mark described his father in his youth, she also adopted his abuse tactics. He said, “we both suffered the same physical abuses from our parents, but then she also turned around and tried to, like, recreate them on me.” As an adult, Mark could see the impact of his sister’s abuse in his negative sense of self as well as his tendency to repeat his relationship with his sister in his romantic relationships. This was particularly pronounced when it came to finding himself with manipulative partners:  My sister has exacerbated and increased a lot of my insecurities and my traumas and stuff like this. Unfortunately, I've come to realize that my… habits for relationships with women... The toxic or unhealthy components that I attract, and am attracted to, resemble her treatment of me as much as my father's in the Freudian way, of course, whatever with the mom and stuff, there's the good qualities that you look for, but then the bad qualities that I find are like, theirs. And she, I knew that I started to realize, you know, maybe        127  eight years ago that the negative qualities that my dad taught me are kind of like relevant there to my codependency types of things and, but also my sister's treatment of me, I've started to realize this figured into that pretty strongly. He realized that his sister and his most recent ex were very much alike. He said, “I realized how much like my sister she actually is. She was very good at hiding, but she manipulated me quite a bit… it's striking me how similar her forms of manipulation and abuse and heartlessness are like my sister’s.”  This sense of a sibling adopting a parent’s way of engaging with Mark was true also with his younger brother Evan. He described how Evan was a “good person,” but began to change as he got older, becoming more like Mark’s stepfather. According to Mark, “he started to become a bitter, resentful, selfish person, selfish in this particular way. Like my stepdad is selfish.” It is notable that this new selfishness aligned him with Mark’s stepdad. Mark also said that he held his stepfather responsible for Evan’s changing attitude towards him, who he said “had taken on all this kind of stuff and my stepdad was starting to say to my mom these resentments that he was holding, and my brother started to embody them… He went so far as to attack me for it.” In this, we can see how Mark understands the way his stepfather’s blame and resentment of him was absorbed by his stepbrother and then embodied in physical violence.  Attention. Another focal theme in Mark’s narrative was attention and how his siblings garnered more of it. When it came to his sister, he described how she was such a destructive element in the family that she drew attention away from Mark. In some ways, this benefited him. He said, “she was rebelling. And that kind of gave me a little bit of cover…I just stayed quiet for a number of years and avoided most of the negative attention. She gladly took it on. And she        128  wanted to go toe to toe with him.” He was already a very shy child, and her conflict with their father offered him a reprieve from more of his focus. One of the few times that Mark spoke positively of his relationship with his sister was in describing how she used to speak for him: I was the kind of young child, three and four years old, who would hide behind my parents’ legs and wouldn't want to talk to people and that kind of stuff, and painfully shy. So it was kind of comfortable to have her get a lot of attention. And for a number of years, she started to speak for me too, apparently, I don't remember this too well. But about the time I was old enough to run around and walk around and follow her around and do stuff. She would speak for me. And sometimes that was okay… We were siblings. We were kind of close. I think in early years to some degree, but sometimes she would use it to her benefit. Once his sister was declared incorrigible, he found himself at the center of his father’s focus, which was shaped by Mark’s entry into adulthood. He said, “I approached adulthood... he became more confrontational, more challenging with me, because I was no longer a little child that could just be manipulated, started to try and kind of like, challenge me a little bit, which didn't work because I didn't think like him.” During that time, he was the only child in his father’s house, and the only “throw away” child at his mother’s house—pointing to his sense of rejection from the other side of his family. Later, Mark described himself holding a middle child position in the family: In retrospect, I was the true middle child in a sense, I was the younger one of the first two sets, and I was the older one of the next two sets, but I was the half-brother. So my sister got so much attention, because she was so misbehaved. She got all the attention in the        129  world. And I got none next to her, and I was expected to just be good… And then when my first younger brother was born, he had serious disabilities out of the womb. And then he got all the attention. And then when my youngest brother was born, and he was the healthy, natural son of my stepfather, so then he got all the attention for that, so I was the one who never got the attention. For Mark, each of the other children in the family held a position that solicited attention while he did not. Whether through acting out, necessity, or favoritism, his other siblings seemed to hold their parents’ attention in a way that he didn’t. He connected his difficulties in life, in part, to this lack of attention. However, he also was quick to relay that he did not resent his siblings—his brothers, in particular—for getting the attention that he did not get. They served an important role for him in giving him the opportunity to play a positive role for them, since he got to be the “big brother” and be protective. He said, “I never felt like, I never resented either of them. I resented my parents.” Sense of Self: Good Child to Protector/Throwaway Middle Child There are several layers to how Mark presented his sense of self throughout his narrative. In childhood, he was shy and observant. This seemed to develop into being the “good” child, he did not demand attention through misbehavior or need, nor was he the favorite. This goodness took several forms. He said, “I was expected to just be good. And I was always praised for being good, for being quiet. I did work, I was intelligent. I was self-sufficient. I practically learned how to read by watching my mom teach other kids. Same way I learned to speak.” We might wonder how much his position in the family was protective in a way, allowing him to fly under the radar, to meet his own needs instead of being disappointed in his family’s inability to meet them. We        130  might also wonder if Mark ever felt that there was room be to “bad,” given that one of his most powerful memories was being rejected at four years old for being rambunctious during the family movie. He also made a connection between his role in the family, his identity as the “good” child, and his sister as a foil to that: "she didn't ever get the good validation. She didn't ever play the role I did, where I was the good child. So I did get more there.” Mark explained that she felt jealousy towards him because his mother trusted him and looked out for him.   His sense of being a protector applied to both his father and sister as well as his younger brothers. In the first case, he felt a need to protect and care for his father and sister because he saw them as vulnerable due to their narcissism: My father and my sister, I tried to protect them… one of the things that I did primarily, instead of worrying about myself for a number of years was to worry about them. Because they're both very narcissistic people… I pitied them and I wanted to protect them… There's a sense of duty, you know… I've always felt like a good person. in that sense, I've always been loyal. He saw his younger brother as in need of protection due to his disability, which also made him vulnerable. In many ways, it seemed he stepped up to fill the role that was never provided for him, especially when it came to his younger brother. He would “defend him and protect him,” and Mark described seeing himself as partially responsible for the fact that his brother never got picked on. He also was the one to intervene when his stepfather was becoming too violent with his brother: I was the one who protected. The reason my stepfather stopped hitting him is because of me. When he was 19 when I had first gone back to Oregon, I was living with them. I        131  heard this confrontation downstairs and I ran down there and he's fucking smacking the kid. He's got him cornered into the kitchen. And I was like, ‘enough. This is too intense, you need to stop.’ It was the first time I'd ever really confronted my stepdad. But he stopped. He just gave me a weird look, kind of looked, and decided to stop. Yeah, my stepfather has harbored all sorts of hatred and resentment for me. That just came out also this year. And I've harbored a lot of resentment towards him too, apparently. Mark talked about having the sense that when it came to his brother Evan, he got to play the role that his sister never played for him: My sister has exploited and exacerbated by insecurities, diminished my self-esteem, and those kinds of things, has pushed me down and used me. With my brothers though, having two younger brothers, it has given me a sense of… it's helped to kind of balance some of that, to give me a sense of responsibility and integrity and worth and value to a degree. But I got to be to them more like I wish that she had been to me. He also mentioned that he eventually came to recognize a need to step in between his sister and his brothers, as well.   His sense of himself also related to a lack of belonging. He did not feel truly welcome in his mother’s house due to his stepfather, and he did not identify with his father or sister in how they thought or approached the world. Though he had to live in these two worlds, he didn’t feel like he really belonged in either, despite having more of an identification with his mother and her side of the family. This may, in some way, reflect his sense of himself as the “true middle child” of the family—not getting the attention he needed and holding a position as the odd one out, alienated despite being the “good child”:        132  I did all the things I was supposed to…went to the Christian school, I went to church, I got the grades, I played the sports, I did the extracurriculars. I read and wrote at a high level. And I participated in the communities and I did the things and I got the grades, and I was quiet… Most all my teachers and adults, and, you know, elders in the church communities and stuff congratulated me for being well behaved, for being intelligent, reserved, quiet.  We might wonder about the stakes involved for Mark around holding these positions—the good child who is also the throwaway child, who became the protector. Like many children in abusive environments, we might wonder if Mark became the protector he needed but didn’t have. It also seems possible that Mark may have needed, for the sake of survival, to forgo any sense of himself as “bad” by becoming the most loyal and good child in his family. This seems to reflect something meaningful about the family environment he had to navigate both in terms of what amount of personal complexity was permissible and what identifications were safest for him.  Narrative Incongruence: Responsibility Mark and his siblings had different ways of understanding the meaning of their shared histories. He described how he and his sister did, at one point, talk about what happened to them. When it came to their father, her identification with him shaped the way she interacted with him: We could talk about our dad being kind of a piece of shit. We had those conversations, but she has this kind of almost like a Stockholm Syndrome. I don't know what the word is, respect or something, for him. She talks about what a terrible person he is. But there's always this kind of reverence in this continuing fear, she's kept going back to him throughout her adult life.        133  Her continued connection to him seemed, from Mark’s perspective, to stem from the fact that she was very much like him and was easily drawn back into him. Even if she was also able to label him abusive, she had aligned herself with his way of engaging the world.   Mark described how he and his sister also had many incongruencies in how they understood their mother and her place in the narrative. Mark described working through ambivalence, both recognizing the ways that she abandoned and neglected him while also still offering some support and affirmation. His sister, however, tended towards blaming her a great deal. He said that they “did start to try to have those kind of conversations as adults. But there was always sort of one major obstacle, and she's always blamed our mother. Excessively. We cannot talk about that subject for too long before our views just go in opposite directions.” He connected this back to the different roles that they played in the family and their identifications: She also kind of started to do what my dad had done early and started to plant seeds that my mom was not a good woman. They butted heads. Her and my father fought because they both love to fight… they love to hate, they hate love. My mom was more like ‘no, stop… ’you're fighting, cut it out, I'm the parent…’ My sister ended up hating my mom even more in a certain way… I don't know if she's even aware of that yet or would admit it, but um, she started doing that thing too like, oh, ‘Mom's not a good person.’ I think she did that more than discussed that our father was not a good person. At one point, I think that became more of a pattern. Our dad was a crazy random piece of shit. And they were always fighting. They hated each other. But most of the time we would have conversations that would be like ‘our mom's not a good person,’ because she was trying        134  to isolate me as well out of jealousy. Because my mother looked out for me in certain ways. She didn't look out for her. From Mark’s standpoint, his sister’s version of their story was more extreme in its critique of their mother because she never got the good validation that Mark did. This jealousy also catalyzed her efforts to pull Mark away from their mother. According to him, she struggled to see her own contribution to her alienation and acknowledge the complexity of their situation beyond their mother’s responsibility. He said, “my sister as I've known her has never been able to really admit or acknowledge the full range of people, places, and things in the situations. It's always been a little bit too biased for her to victimize herself, in our conversations.” This sense of being a victim goes against how Mark understands their history.   As for his brothers, it was unclear what his youngest brother understands of their shared history. Mark did go into depth about how his stepfather’s resentment of him has affected Evan, who blamed Mark for his mother and stepfather’s separation. Mark, in contrast, did not see himself as responsible for their split: He doesn't know who to blame. So just might as well blame me. But it's funny, because if you were going to blame, which you shouldn't, but if you were going to blame one of the children for their marriage ending it would be him because he's the lifelong dependent. Though careful to qualify this statement by stating that there shouldn’t be blame of any kind, Mark seemed to demonstrate that his presence has not put as much pressure on his parents’ marriage as his brother’s disabilities have.           135  Holistic Analysis of Form: Betrayal The driving force in Mark’s narrative is betrayal. His story might be considered to have an overall regressive shape, with a positive relationship with his brother Evan ending abruptly and violently. His relationship with this sister, which vacillated from unstable connection to clear antagonism, finally ended in an ultimate betrayal. His relationship with his sister is repeatedly marked by Mark’s trust and support being betrayed. Though it was stably negative in this way for much of their relationship, it was ultimately his sister’s betrayal of him over his alcohol use that ended their connection. Likewise, he seemed to have a stably positive relationship with his brother up until the attack, which for Mark was a betrayal after years of his support and guidance as a “protector.” In both cases, a single event is identified as a turning point that shifts their dynamic.   Mark’s narrative was cohesive with a linear plot. His narrative was peppered with detailed stories that demonstrated the issues he described, and he took pains to discuss his understanding of how the abuse was created and sustained in his family. Along with the regressive shape of his relationship to his siblings, there also seemed to be a sense of being set back by his physical limitations after his accident, and the toll his healing had taken on him. He does, however, mention that he is working on himself, sober and in therapy, which implied progress of a different kind. Mark’s narrative seemed to be open ended in some ways, as he still aimed to heal some of his relationships in his family, and his physical healing is ongoing. Mark’s narrative most closely fits the dynamics of a tragedy in that his best efforts ultimately could not prevent the breakdown of his family and his relationships.          136  Member Check Mark unfortunately did not respond to invitations to participate in the member check. Camille Narrative Summary Camille signed onto Zoom from Nebraska, wearing pink headphones and large, gold framed hexagonal glasses. She had a warm, even presence, and was thoughtful in her responses to the interview questions. At the time of our interview, Camille was 34 years old and described herself as a White, pansexual, cis gender female. She had been with her husband for ten years. While she has four siblings, only two of them lived in the home with her during the time of the abuse and were the focus of her narrative. Camille lived with her mother and two sisters, who are six and eight years older than her, until right before her 13th birthday when her father was granted custody of her.  Camille described how her parents divorced when she was about two years old, and her childhood was deeply impacted by her mother’s neglect. When her mother could no longer afford to live in the house their grandparents built, they moved. At that point things really started to “go downhill.” Her mother, an ER nurse, was working the night shift, so she would be gone during the night and asleep during the day. Camille and her sisters were left to take care of themselves, but Camille didn’t know how to feed herself or wash her clothes. She said she often went without eating. Her oldest sister Gabby, who eventually would be diagnosed with schizophrenia, began taking heroin. Gabby also got pregnant at around the age of fifteen, which was hidden from their father. As her sister fell deeper into heroin, she became physically violent. Camille’s middle sister Danielle would eventually be diagnosed with bipolar disorder.         137  Camille described how her mother’s neglect resulted in abuse from Danielle as well as sexual abuse by someone outside the family. She said that Danielle, sixteen or seventeen at the time, was aware of the assaults and did nothing to stop them. She also used to give Camille drugs and alcohol when she was little, likely to “shut [her] up.” Camille recounted how, oddly enough, Danielle is now the family member she feels closest to. Camille cited some of her mental health troubles as contributing to the ambivalent relationship between them when they were younger, but over time they were able to bond, usually over things that were “inappropriate” like Camille’s first cigarette.  Danielle gave birth the day that Camille’s father got custody of her. Camille was sitting at the end of their driveway and the babysitter didn’t know where she was—she thought Camille was missing. The family was frantically searching for Camille as her sister was giving birth, and her father eventually drove out to the house and found her sitting at the end of the driveway with a friend. After that, Camille’s father got full custody, as her mother told her she was “too much to handle.” Looking back at that time, Camille saw her mother as “just not really a parent.” She described her mother as having “a lot of unresolved trauma from when she was a kid and she’s just pushing it down the line.” She described how her father’s approach to parenting was the “extreme opposite” of her mother’s—he was very demanding, emphasizing good grades and discipline. Though this was a difficult adjustment, Camille said she thought this helped her after having no structure at all. Living with her father meant she was not as close to her sisters, though she still babysat for Danielle, which helped their relationship. They reconnected in a deeper way right before her father’s death, and they became much closer after Camille divorced her abusive ex-husband.        138  When Camille was 21 her father completed suicide, and Danielle struggled with alcoholism after his death. Camille described how Danielle eventually stopped drinking, stopped taking medications for bipolar, and started self-medicating with cannabis.  Camille cut off contact with Gabby, “and that is strictly because she’s just really not a nice person.” Camille described how after her diagnosis, Gabby refused to change anything, and her behavior was continuously erratic. There were ups and downs to their relationship and in her sister’s life. She described a cycle where things would be good for a period of time, and then there would be periods where they wouldn’t talk at all because Gabby’s mental health would deteriorate. Her sister was married at one point and eventually divorced, then moved back in with their mother. At that time, their mother had a housemate who slept with her door locked. Camille described how Gabby picked the lock and filmed the housemate while sleeping, and this lead the housemate to call the police. Gabby then claimed to be a government agent. In addition to this incident, Gabby disappeared for several days and went to Mexico. She was then arrested about four hours away, back in Texas, after an altercation with police. When she got home from jail, she tried to break into Camille’s apartment while she was sleeping. This, Camille said, was what led her to discontinue contact. She also mentioned that Gabby tended to look at her more as a daughter because she was eight when Camille was born, and she was largely responsible for Camille’s care. Camille, however, doesn’t have the same sense of their relationship, and seemed to find her sister’s approach to their relationship somewhat disconcerting. At this point, Camille lives in Nebraska and the rest of her family is still in Texas. She and Danielle have worked to develop a positive relationship, and Camille doesn’t blame her sister for what happened—she described her as the family member she is closest to.         139  Narrative Themes Inversion: Children as Caretakers. One of the most striking themes in Camille’s narrative is the impact of neglect, specifically when siblings are placed in the role of the parent. She gave several examples of how her mother’s absence sets a series of issues in motion. Her sisters, unable to fulfill the role of mother as they were still children themselves, did not have the knowledge or resources necessary to supervise and parent Camille. She said, “my mother would often leave me alone and unattended when I was very young… it was my sister's responsibility to watch me, which they were also quite young… so they just wouldn't... I almost died quite a few times before the age of three.”  In describing this time, she emphasized how she was left to her own devices without any knowledge of how to take care of herself: She didn't bother to teach me how to do any of those things, and my siblings didn't either. So, I just didn't really eat. And I wore dirty clothes all the time because I didn't really know what to do. And my siblings, as we got older, they didn't really know how to deal with me, I guess.  When her sister got pregnant at fifteen, her mother told them all to lie to her father about it. Camille connected this to her not wanting to be seen as a bad parent. This dynamic seems to evoke a sense of the mother being yet another child in the house, asking them not to “tell dad,” continuing to shirk responsibility and place her children in a vulnerable position. Camille went on with her description and said, “she just wasn't around, and when she was, she was just not really a parent. She was the cool mom that would let you do whatever and didn't care, which is not conducive to growing up. Because we kind of needed a parent.” As an adult, Camille        140  recognized that her mother struggled with connecting to her role as a mother, attempting to fabricate a less suitable relationship instead: For my mom… it was like, depend on me, unless it hinders me, right until it inconveniences me. But she wants that close relationship…. And I think she just doesn't form good friendships. And so she's trying to find it somewhere. And for whatever reason, she honed in on me really hard for that. And I don't... her and I have different views of our relationship. Camille described how their mother consistently went to her and her sisters for support, but did not “support them back,” and tended to put her own needs at the center of any given situation. For example, when their dad died, their mother made it “all about herself” and was unable to support them.  This focus on herself extends beyond extreme situations:  It's one of those things like she'll call you and be like, ‘How are you?’ And you're like, ‘Oh, well, I had—' and she'll just interrupt you and be like, ‘Yeah. So, I just had this thing happen today.’ Like she's not actually interested in anything you have to say... And if you were to confront her about anything that happened when we were kids, she'll say, ‘Oh, I'm sorry for being such a terrible mother.’ And then she'll start crying and you'll end up having to comfort her, like it's a hot mess. And she probably does this to all of us. Not just me, I would imagine... I think to some extent, you know, all three of us growing up with, like, an adult child probably didn't help our dynamic with each other. Here, Camille outlined the ways in which her mother’s lack of responsibility has had an impact not only on her and her sisters as individuals, but their dynamic with each other as well. This theme spread across the entirety of Camille’s narrative. Even in Camille’s relationship with her        141  in adulthood, her mother failed to take responsibility or consider how her actions (or lack thereof) had an impact on her children, regardless of age, and how this undermined her role as a mother. One example Camille gave was about how her mother casually told her she had seriously considered suicide: First off, like, why are you saying that to your child who's already dealt with a parent killing themselves? Like, can you not? And second off, what the fuck... Yeah, she doesn't take responsibility for things, and she has a little bit of just like an inappropriate relationship with us in general, I think… Not that I'm really a great judge of what's an appropriate and inappropriate relationship between a parent and a child, because I haven't really seen much of that, but. I don't know.”  Here we can see Camille doubting her own capacity to connect with what it might feel or look like to have an appropriate parent-child relationship because she did not have a positive example to internalize.  Camille also described how her oldest sister Gabby was likely the one with more responsibility for taking care of her given that she was the oldest when Camille was born, but she doesn’t remember it very well. This affected their relationship over time, especially since Gabby has struggled so much with her mental health and has had several breaks with reality: As she got older, she always said to me that she felt like she was my mother and she really fixated on me... I have her blocked pretty much everywhere, but she still tries to follow me to places online that I don't have set to like completely private… honestly, I don't remember spending a ton of time with her.        142  Her sister’s lack of respect for her boundaries did not stop Camille from also feeling empathic towards her. She said, “that has to be frustrating, especially given that she didn't play that role for her own daughter… I do feel to some extent that she looks for a child in me, you know? But… I don't have that relationship that she sees with her.” Camille described how there is a gap between how she and Gabby understand their connection, similar to how there is a gap between how her mother sees herself in relation to Camille. In these cases, it seems that Camille is left to navigate this on her own—her mother and sister maintain fantasies of closeness even though Camille’s reality reflects a history of boundary crossing, neglect, and inappropriate dependence.  In their childhood, the lack of parental presence contributed to an abusive dynamic with Danielle. In describing this, she said, “she didn't really know what to do with me, so if I got too annoying, she would just lock me in a dark closet for hours at a time.” In addition to this, her sister Danielle also used to give her drugs and alcohol when she was a young child, likely to get her to “shut up.” Another major traumatic event in Camille’s narrative was the continuous assault by Danielle’s friend when Camille was ten. This occurred over the course of about a year. Her sister was aware of the situation and did nothing, which stirred up feelings for Camille around the issue of responsibility: “at the time, she was 16 or 17. So at that point, it’s kind of like, come on now.” Reflecting on their childhood, Camille described how she imagined Danielle saw her—as annoying and embarrassing—while she was navigating the world according to what was available to her: I think she was just annoyed with me when I was younger. I think, you know, I was needing attention… I was probably embarrassing. You have your younger sibling who is wearing dirty clothes and is loud and doesn't probably know how to socialize very well        143  following you around and you're trying to look cool in front of your friends. I don't think there was really, you know, malicious intent behind what she did. I think she just was not a very well-adjusted teenager. Several times throughout the interview, Camille mentioned her incredulity at the absence of protective adult figures, even outside the family. She said, “they would have like wild ass parties with alcohol and drugs, like, every night because there was no adult home… we were the party house. I'm amazed we didn't get the cops called on us more. I'm kind of baffled.” In addition to this comment, she discussed how their home was known for being unsafe. She said, “we were that house, like my friends weren't even allowed to come over to, their parents were just like, ‘nope. You can come to our house, but our kid's not going to yours.’ Which is baffling why Child Protective Services was never called. But you know. Tis what tis.” This points us, perhaps, to a larger overarching issue or question—how we collectively, as a society, may shirk responsibility in the face of these kinds of issues, whether because it “isn’t our business,” or diffusion of responsibility, or myriad other reasons.  Ambivalent Bonds. Across Camille’s narrative, she discussed her sisters and her relationship with them in ambivalent terms. In considering the roles that they have in her life and their impact on her, she gave a multi-layered description and maintained an empathic stance to some of the difficulties they faced alongside her. She also spoke of some of the boundary setting and avoidance she has had to navigate with them over the course of their relationship.   Gabby’s difficulties with her mental health seems to be a guiding factor in the shape their relationship took over the years, and their current estrangement. There was a great deal of vacillation between closeness and distance depending upon what was happening with her sister’s        144  mental health. She refused Camille’s help when she first got diagnosed, seemingly in denial of a need to act and care for herself. When things were good, they would spend time together and bond over simple pleasures: When she was finally living on her own, I would go visit and stay sometimes… those were really good memories. We would go to the movies and she would make like, we would just eat junk food. And it was really nice… And when she was married for a while, it was good… we spent some time together. However, when her mental health took a turn for the worse, it was difficult to maintain contact with her: And it's kind of like a cycle with her mental health. She's really lucid and seems okay for a while. And then she just goes off the deep end and you're like, [sarcastically] ‘Oh, good.’ And that's usually when I can't handle her because she gets really mean as well. She will just say the most hurtful things to you. And it's like, I've done nothing to provoke this… it's frustrating for me because I know that it's a mental health issue more than it is like a person issue. And I wish I could help, but I can't force her to accept the help. From Camille’s perspective, her sister refused to take consistent care of her mental health, leading to several breaks that caused a great deal of distress in the family. Eventually, after she attempted to break into Camille’s apartment after getting out of jail, Camille decided to cut ties. She said, “that was kind of the last straw for me. I was like, I can't.” Part of what seems to have had an impact here is her sister’s lack of responsibility for herself, a continuation of the theme of neglect and its impact. Camille’s desire to help her, and her acknowledgment of the good in their        145  relationship, contrasted painfully with the eventual need to place boundaries that could help support Camille’s own mental health and create appropriate limits on her sister’s intrusiveness.   As previously mentioned, Camille’s relationship with her middle sister Danielle was fraught by an abusive dynamic early on. However, they also share memories of connection, and she is the person in the family that Camille feels closest to. She said, “she's probably the one I have the closest relationship with now, oddly enough. Which is odd considering she used to tie me up and lock me up into dark places and give me drugs and alcohol. But she's changed a lot over the years.” Camille gave several examples of the ways that they bonded over things that were “not great things to bond over.” For example, Danielle gave Camille her first cigarette. They would also go to a local pool hall at night, which Camille had mixed feelings about, given she was only 12 and her sister 18: But that's like a really good memory I have of us, oddly enough, totally inappropriate… Neither of us were the age to go to the pool hall, but we were there. That, and when she got her first job, she would bring home leftovers. And so I would get like an actual meal for dinner, which was really nice. So, that was really a good memory. Camille mentioned other points of connection, including her sister getting closer to her after the assault when she was ten, Camille getting close to her sister’s kids and supporting her by babysitting, and mutual support after their father passed. Her middle sister was also a big source of support when Camille divorced her first husband, who was abusive: She let me move in with her when we first divorced. I only stayed there for two days before getting my own place because I was really uncomfortable... And it wasn't them. They were very nice… It's weird. I guess our relationship is a little... Like we're close, but        146  it's kind of strained. If that makes sense. Like I can tell that she feels bad and doesn't really know what to do about it. And she's very non-confrontational, so she doesn't really talk about those things much. At this point, they share a bond, though Camille described it in somewhat tenuous terms. Camille spoke of her in a generally positive way, proud of her for overcoming alcoholism and the amount of change she has managed to make in her life in spite of the experiences that they had. She also recognizes that Danielle struggled a lot when she was younger. She “was a lot,” possibly because she was seeking attention from their absent mother, and possibly because of the bipolar disorder she was diagnosed with, though Camille seemed unsure that this diagnosis was accurate. In adulthood, they have been able to sustain a meaningful connection. She said, “I think we get along well. I mean, we send each other gifts…I sent them a telescope around everyone’s birthdays this year. So, we send gifts back and forth and we text occasionally…. She’s the member of the family I feel closest to.” Blame, Guilt, and Responsibility. Another theme embedded in Camille’s narrative was making sense of how this all happened. Specifically, in her narrative she navigated the issues of blame, guilt, and responsibility, and she discussed how those have shown up in her relationships with her sisters and with herself. For Camille, it seemed important to consider the contextual factors that affected not only her, but her sisters, given the neglect they collectively experienced. She openly acknowledged several times that it was unreasonable for her sisters to be given the responsibility of caring for her since they were children themselves.         147   Her middle sister seemed to be the person in her life who was capable, to some degree, of acknowledging her part in what happened, and felt some guilt for how she treated Camille when they were younger: My sister and I were sitting and talking and she kind of brought it up and was just like, ‘I'm really sorry for how things were when we were kids.’ You know. And I was like, ‘You know, like, we're not kids anymore. It's okay.’ I'm very aware of that, you know, regardless of how I saw things and how things affected me, like I'm aware that they were also going through the same situation. So, everyone deals with that differently. And they had a lot of responsibility on their plate. So, it's really hard for me to fault her... I don’t really blame her for any of it. After she was abused by her sister’s friend, she told Danielle yet felt ambivalent about giving too many details other than what was necessary to encourage her sister to protect her own children and avoid being around him. Camille did not want her sister to blame herself for what happened, yet also acknowledged that she was old enough at that time to say something, potentially stopping the abuse. She also did not excuse her sister’s abuse: It's hard because… I feel like I was an annoying child. Being too much. But I also have to realistically look like, when I was 14 or when I was 16, would I have done those things? Would I have let someone do those things? And the answer is no. So, it's just hard because we're very different people as well. Like, I don't think trauma is a good excuse to abuse someone else. Or to allow someone else to be abused. I think if anything, trauma should make you more of an empathetic person. And be more of an advocate for other people. But I know that not everyone can do that.        148  As for her oldest sister Gabby, she looked back and considered her mental illness to be a factor that relieved some of her responsibility for her contributions to Camille’s suffering as a child. She said, “as my sister got more into heroin, she got kind of physically abusive, which… I don't really take any of that personally because she was an addict. So, you know, I'm aware that she wasn't really in control of her actions at that time.” In addition to this, she described her understanding of her sister’s illness as something that had an influence beyond her sister as a person. She said, “it's frustrating for me because I know that it's a mental health issue more than it is like a person issue. And I wish I could help, but I can't force her to accept the help.” Again, this seems to relieve her sister to a certain degree of responsibility—it wasn’t her sister per se, it was the schizophrenia that prevented her from being a positive presence in Camille’s life.   In lieu of placing responsibility on her sisters and mother, Camille has tended to blame herself entirely for what happened to her: I'm working on that in therapy, not blaming myself. So, I should probably put that out there as well. Because as of right now, like I, I'm of the mentality that all of that was my fault. I'm, I'm working through addressing the fact that there were other factors at play and that not everything is my fault.  She described still working through a belief that she was “annoying” and “embarrassing,” and that she was at fault for having too many needs. Part of her process has been coming to terms with the fact that rather than it being her fault, the context and dynamics of their household created the conditions for neglect and her sisters’ abuse. Additionally, aside from wrestling with her sisters’ responsibility in the situation, it seemed like another key issue was identifying her        149  mother’s responsibility. She said, “I'm still working on that in EMDR just really addressing the fact that our mom is a large, probably a large cause of my overarching issues.” Sense of Self: The Golden Child, The Burden  In Camille’s narrative, it was evident that there were layers to how she saw herself as a child and how she sees herself now based upon the experiences that she had. She also described how the way others saw her affected the way they treated her. She noticed early on that she was treated differently from her sisters. Partially, this came from the high expectations her parents had of her. She was treated like an adult from a very young age and would go on to be the only sibling that would graduate high school, the only one “held accountable” for her actions: I had to be the responsible one in the household, like I was the only one that was held accountable for my actions. I was the only one expected to do anything. And I don't know why. I think it was just like my mom said, you know, the first one is the one where you experiment. The second one is where you try to get things right. And the third one, you know, you just expect them to, to get it all done.  Her middle sister has added to Camille’s understanding of herself and her position in the family: My middle sister has commented to me a couple of times how like, well, ‘they always saw you as the golden child, so you couldn't have done anything wrong.’ And I was like, ‘I got in trouble all the time, like more than you guys for dumb little things,’ because they were like, ‘we have such high expectations of you.’ I would have rather them just have no expectations and let me live my childhood… But I get it. There's a healthy balance, and neither of us got that.        150  Ironically, being the golden child seems to have meant that she was punished for not meeting a higher standard and was not given as much support as her sisters. While they were given support and multiple “chances” despite destructive behavior, Camille was expected to make things work on her own. She was also the only sibling sent to live with their father, which at the time was a frightening change that felt like a punishment: My mom would do one thing for both of my siblings, but not for me, you know? Like, my oldest sister, you know, with her heroin addiction, my mom stuck it out with her, kept giving her a second chance after second chance after second chance. My other sister, you know, she had her first child in high school. And, you know, when our dad died, I lost my car because it was in my dad's name and my stepmom wasn't going to let me keep anything. And so when I needed a new car, I asked my mom to cosign on the lease and she wouldn't do it. But she also, at the exact same time, flat out bought that sister a car. And her argument at the time was, ‘well, she has children.’ And I was like, okay, so if I'm irresponsible and pop out a couple of babies, are you going to treat me differently? It's frustrating because I did one very small thing wrong, which wasn't even really wrong. And I got shipped to someone else's house. So, it's a little hard for me to not feel like clearly something was wrong with me compared to my siblings because we were not treated the same, ever, by our mother. My mother would always baby me in speech, but her actions didn't match up with the things she would say. Camille’s father was extremely strict and gave her so much structure that it was both helpful and jarring. However, he made it clear that his expectations of her were extremely high and there were consequences for failing to live up to them. She said:        151  So I didn't see... my mom and my sisters for months… Partially because I was upset with my mom for lying to me and partially because my dad was really mad at me for… I don't know, not being found… He was very strict and like straight A's weren't enough. If I had a single B quiz grade sort of stuff, I was constantly grounded for things like just, not having good enough grades, or texting someone after a certain time at night. I mean, he was very, very controlling and strict. But I will say, going from one extreme opposite to the other helped me probably. I don't know. I think it was good to have that structure from going from absolutely no structure.  He also had strong opinions about her future, telling her that she should be a doctor or lawyer despite her desire to go into nursing. In comparing her parents’ expectations of her versus her sisters, she said: I don't really understand why, but they held us to different expectations. Like my oldest sister, she was very smart, but she started doing drugs pretty young and quickly dropped out, ended up in alternative schools and dropped out of those, and I think they just gave up. And then my little sister started going down that same kind of route, and they just gave up. And so they both honed in really hard on me and were like, ‘well, you're going to be the one child that makes it out not fucked up.’ And it turns out that's not true either. So joke's on them. On the one hand, Camille described how she could see how these high expectations were built on a hope for something better than her—that in some way, this reflected something positive. At the very least, her father’s more disciplined approach gave her a scaffolding for a more productive, successful life. However, the form this took—the experience of differential treatment, the        152  harshness and lack of support, were also damaging for Camille. Another possible side effect of this is Camille’s sense of herself as a burden: I felt like a burden. I still feel like one, even though logically it doesn't really check out. I felt like I was in everyone's way. I felt like I was a problematic child and unless I was out of the way, quiet, and not bothering anyone, there were consequences, you know? I would end up getting locked in a room, or my other sister would beat me… I just always figured that the fact that I was treated differently from everyone in the house there had to have been a reason. Right? That's what made sense to me. In childhood, this differential treatment was less a sign of hope and more a signal that there was something wrong with her—she was the odd one out. When asked if her sisters contributed to her sense of herself as a burden, she said it was likely: I would think so, yeah, because my mom wasn't there enough for me to get that impression from her. My older sister behaved that way to some extent as well. But, you know, when I was a little older and she moved back in, but she was also a drug addict. So like, I, I don't know where to put that behavior. But yeah, I mean, she there was one night I remember where she, she came to stay with us for whatever reason. And we didn't have enough beds in the room because she hadn't been living with us. And she didn't want to sleep on the couch. So, she decided to crawl into my bed with me. And I was like, ‘No.’ I spent most of my life without my own bed. I finally got my own bed at the age of like, 12. So I was like, ‘no, get out of my bed. This is my bed. You can go sleep on the couch.’ And she hit me. And so I went and slept on the couch. And. Yeah. I don't know, like.        153  Yeah, I think between both of them, I don't know. Just the feeling that I was in the way… and a burden and probably stemmed a lot from those interactions, I would imagine. This sense of herself as a burden was something that she was still navigating in therapy and in her relationships. She described an experience that is common for many survivors of developmental trauma—a gap between what she knew intellectually and what she felt: Yeah, I mean, it's still a part of my life today, but it makes no sense intellectually at this point. I'm in a healthy marriage. My husband is very involved with my mental health recovery. He is an Iraq veteran and he has PTSD. We work through things together. He's very involved… he's wonderful… I just feel this way and it makes no sense sometimes. And we just have to talk through it. I'm like, okay, for whatever reason, my brain is telling me that something and he's like, ‘Camille, That's not accurate.’ So it's nice having that reality check because I'm still mentally in that place, but I'm not. I know I'm not…my career is very successful. I own my own home. It's a safe place for me. My husband is wonderful. I finally am not in an abusive relationship. I'm aware of these things, but it's really hard to feel that. She described thinking of herself as “functionally dysfunctional.” She is good at the work she does and credited her upbringing as the reason—it made her a perfectionist. She also credited her experience with making her a more understanding person and described herself as very good at making friends. “Too good, considering I’m very introverted” she said, wryly.  Mixed Congruence: Trauma Olympics & Avoidance In terms of how they each held the narrative of their history, her eldest sister Gabby seemed to go the route of their mother. Camille described how Gabby has a different        154  understanding of her relationship to Camille—she sees her as a kind of daughter, even though Camille does not remember her this way and has, over time, come to put up strict boundaries around communication. When discussing their past, Camille said: She goes the route of my mom. And if we start talking about things like that, she’ll like, if you talk about like, oh, I had a bad experience with this, she will give you an example of how she had a worse experience with something else. So, we don’t really talk very much about our childhood because… it was, it became very quickly like a trauma Olympics sort of thing. Like, let’s compete about who had the worst experience. And I don’t, I’m not here for that. Everyone has bad experiences, and I’m aware that there are people with worse ones out there. But it’s not a competition. Danielle acknowledged their past while also avoiding it. On the one hand, her apology a few years prior seemed to demonstrate that she understood their past in a similar way and could understand the impact of her abuse and that it was wrong. Camille also described her sense that her sister just “tries to keep the peace”: I think the apology came from a genuine place of like, she felt bad, but for the most part, like she won’t talk about serious things unless someone else initiates. And I never initiate that sort of stuff because … I don’t know. Unless someone else wants to talk about that, I’m just not going to bring it up… I think her and I are kind of similar in that respect. Like we don’t want to rock the boat per se. Camille also mentioned that her sister may fear that in discussing what happened, they will ruin the connection they have because it will dredge up her abuse of Camille. Despite having a        155  similar sense of their history, it is difficult for them to connect over it, as that means a recognition of harm.   When asked how it affected her, having one sister make it into the “trauma Olympics” and another avoid the topic for fear of opening old wounds, she said that it was difficult to not have a support system: I had no one to talk to. and I had a really a lot of trouble making friends when I was younger, too, partially because we moved a lot, but I also imagine because people typically don’t befriend the kid wearing dirty clothes who seems like they came from the wild. So yeah, I mean, I got bullied a lot… I think that’s probably the biggest way it affected me is I just didn’t… have anyone to talk to. Well, I was going to say, I imagine it was the same for them, but they both had a lot of friends. Not that it means they felt comfortable talking to any of them. I don’t know that. They may have also been in the same boat as I was with them. And I just don’t know.”  Camille’s description here points to a loneliness and alienation in the past that might speak to feelings of disconnection she was still navigating at the time of the interview.  Holistic Analysis of Form: Towards Structure and Safety  A driving feature of Camille’s narrative is a movement away from neglect towards structure and safety. In the first part of her story, the absence of her mother and her sisters being given the responsibility of taking care of her propelled much of their early struggles. We might think of her middle childhood and early adolescence as another stage, driven by bonding over “inappropriate” things with her middle sister, where they develop a kind of allyship. This is possible in part because the neglect helped create the conditions for the assault by Danielle’s        156  friend, the eventual end of that relationship, and her sister engaging more with her as a result. A major turning point occurred when her sister had her first baby, the same day that her father got custody of her, as a result of her being “too much.” This introduced a great deal of structure into Camille’s life, and she mentions that this had a huge influence on her ability to be successful in work and life. Finally, the end of her narrative is more about Camille both establishing healthy boundaries with her eldest sister Gabby and getting closer with her middle sister Danielle. In all these cases, we can see how the narrative is shaped by a move from more abusive or chaotic dynamics to structured and safe ones.   There are several turning points throughout the narrative, including the end of the yearlong abuse by Danielle’s friend, Camille’s move into her father’s house, his death, and then her divorce from her abusive ex-husband. All of these are driving forces in Camille’s life, both changing her context drastically in its own right and shifting her relationship with Danielle. Aside from the distance created when Camille moved in with her father, these turning points facilitated more closeness between Camille and her sister.  Another dynamic factor that shapes their relationships is mental health. Gabby’s mental health had ups and downs that also coincided with periods of closeness vs. distance between her and Camille, and Danielle’s eventual success in recovering from alcoholism and other mental health troubles facilitated them getting closer. Her relationship with her mother seems stagnant, possibly in part because there has been no shift in her mental health or deeper personal work on herself. Camille’s narrative most closely resembles a comedy in that she was able to get closer to her sister, and her own sense of well-being has improved, especially given the healthy boundaries she has put in place with her oldest sister. It is a progressive narrative for similar        157  reasons, however, we might also consider the deterioration of her relationship with her oldest sister, as well as the stably dissatisfying relationship she has with her mother. She continued to struggle with the gap between her intellectual understanding that the abuse wasn’t her fault and her continued self-blame. In addition to this, she continuously wrestles with ambiguity and pessimism. This creates a strong ironic undertone to her narrative despite themes of safety and connection. Member Check  Camille and I met for a member check about nine months after our initial meeting. She described currently working on her trauma in therapy and having lower contact with her family due to a sense that more discussion would not be healing. She mentioned that her experience in participating in the research was “interesting,” as reading her history from a different point of view stirred up a lot of feelings. It was “triggering” to a certain extent, especially since it made her question the closeness she feels to her middle sister. However, she said “that’s why I work on and build up these tools.” While she described understanding that talking about these things wasn’t easy, she saw the value of participating and generally felt that it resonated.   In addition to this, Camille described how she was taking the “opposite road” when it came to mental health, and that this was something that differentiated her from the rest of her family. There was a part of her that questioned whether it might be best to step away from them, as they were not engaged in the same kind of healing process. This seems to accentuate some of the elements of her narrative that are potentially closer to irony than comedy in terms of narrative structure.         158  Caleb Narrative Summary Caleb signed in for our Zoom interview from Pennsylvania wearing a dark t-shirt and headphones. They spoke in low, even tones throughout the interview, with hints of sarcastic humor throughout. At the time of our interview, Caleb was 19 years old and described themself as White, non-binary, and gay, and uses he/they pronouns. They had one sibling in the home when they were growing up and experiencing abuse—a stepbrother who is four years older. They characterized their early childhood, before their stepbrother’s presence, as containing “small incidents”—spankings—and one occasion where they were hit. However, after their parents divorced, things got worse. Though they split their time with both their mom and dad, there was a period where they were more with their mom who was both physically and verbally abusive. Caleb’s stepfather was also physically aggressive and intimidating, contributing to the unsafe atmosphere in the home. The abuse was often either minimized or completely denied. When Caleb was about nine years old, their stepfather’s nephew was released from jail. He moved in with the family for a time even though he had a history of sexually abusing his sister and could possibly have posed a threat to Caleb and their stepbrother. Caleb also experienced neglect in terms of basic needs like food and medical care. Before they learned to cook for themselves, they would often go without being fed. For a time, they developed an eating disorder. They said, “it went very unnoticed, and at some points it was like, ‘oh, you’ve lost a lot of weight. Congrats.’ Well, no one is caring enough to make sure that I eat.” When Caleb would get sick they usually weren’t taken to a doctor, or were made to go to school anyway. Additionally, when they were first diagnosed with endometriosis, the birth control they were        159  given as treatment gave them bad side effects, including having a period for three months. When they asked to go to the doctor, their mother insisted that it was normal. They weren’t taken to the doctor until they moved to their father’s house, who was a consistent source of support and safety. Caleb described how their stepbrother had a positive impact. They said he was “one of the only things that I looked forward to when I would be at my mom’s house.” When they were younger, their stepbrother about 12 and Caleb 8, they didn’t get along very well, and argued over gender and their stepbrother’s very conservative, binary thinking. They also had difficulty connecting due to their age gap, particularly when Caleb was in middle school and their stepbrother was in high school. Once they were both in high school, however, it was easier to connect. They bonded over video games and Magic the Gathering and built a camaraderie around their “mutual understanding” that their parents were “kind of… crazy and not great.” Caleb grew to see their stepbrother as one of their constant friends, and a key figure in their resilience despite the abuse and the way he was weaponized against Caleb. This weaponization included comparison—for example Caleb’s stepfather justifying his treatment of Caleb because it “wasn’t that bad” in comparison to how he treated his biological son. Caleb’s stepfather treated them differently from their stepbrother, sometimes spending more positive time with him, other times abusing him in a more physically violent way. Caleb’s mother, on the other hand, very rarely disciplined their stepbrother. She was, as previously mentioned, consistently verbally abusive towards Caleb, especially around issues of gender. Caleb’s queerness was a point of tension in the family from a religious perspective, and this was weaponized not only by the adults but also by Caleb’s stepbrother.         160  When Caleb was 11, their parents went to court over custody. At that point, Caleb was living with their mother about 80% of the time and wanted to live with their father full time. They settled on an even split. At that point, things did improve for a while, and then worsened again. When Caleb was 15, they went to court again after Caleb’s stepfather threatened them with a knife. This resulted in their father getting emergency custody, and a judge ruled that their mother could not bring their stepfather around Caleb. Caleb described how this was an awful time for their mental health and they were suicidal. Their mother eventually settled the case for fewer hours of visitation if she didn’t have an increase in child support. The 4-hour weekly visits typically devolved into arguments, and eventually their relationship fragmented. Now they are “not really on speaking terms.” Caleb’s relationship with their stepbrother also disintegrated around that difficult time. He withdrew from Caleb, not responding to texts. Eventually, Caleb discovered that their mother had lied and told their stepbrother that Caleb hated him. Caleb described seeing their stepbrother as having “become like a carbon copy of his dad.” They worried for him in large part because it seemed that the abuse had been normalized for him. It was also painful to have lost such an important relationship. He said, “it kind of sucks. I definitely miss him a lot.” Narrative Themes Ambivalent Camaraderie. Caleb’s narrative paints a complex portrait of their stepbrother. Though Caleb’s affection for him is clear, they also discussed how their stepbrother could be unkind and invalidating. They describe how early on when their families blended, they “butted heads” a lot and argued about gender:        161  He had different ideas than I did. Not even with the whole trans thing, but he was just like, ‘well, girls are weak and boys are strong.’ And I would be like, ‘that's silly. That's not true.’ He was also 12 years old and raised in a very conservative household. Despite these early differences of opinion, they got along well enough to play video games together. When Caleb was in middle school and their stepbrother high school, the gap between them widened for a time because their stepbrother was “too cool” for them. However, when they were about 14 and 18 years old, they became quite close: I really got along with my stepbrother… we got along and we hung out. We played video games a lot. Whether that be like we played a few multiplayer games or I would just be in his room playing Sims while he played Halo… then he also showed me Magic the Gathering. I still have a card deck, which I played with him a lot… A little bit before I moved out—well, even before that—we had sort of… a camaraderie. Their stepbrother was a clear source of support and sanctuary for them, and Caleb developed a lot of their interests out of that connection.  As they got older, the points of contention between them expanded to include religion. Caleb’s stepbrother held very conservative, religious ideas about queerness, and this was a source of pain for Caleb: Religion, when we were older, was the thing that [we] would butt heads about. And as much as I say all of these great things about him, there was one incident where he—I think that he meant this in the best way possible—but he told me that he hopes I get saved in reference to me being gay, which kind of hurts. But I mean, again, I think he meant it in the best way possible... That doesn't take away any of the sting.         162  Caleb’s ambivalence is clear—on the one hand, this was a painful thing to hear. On the other, they defended their stepbrother, making sure that it was clear that his intentions were as best as they possibly could have been. Throughout Caleb’s narrative, their descriptions of their stepbrother include relatively frequent mention of those influences that guided his beliefs and behavior. It therefore seemed important to Caleb that his stepbrother was understood beyond the ways that he hurt Caleb, and that these more painful aspects of their relationship were given ample contextualization. Caleb still thought of their stepbrother positively and as an important influence on them: I still think about him a lot in my day-to-day life in a positive way, even though we're not on good terms now. I mean, it's definitely very bittersweet. Looking back at everything. I mean, he definitely shaped like a lot of my interests now... He was definitely one of the constant friends that I had for a while. For a lot of my childhood, I didn't really have any friends or if I did had friends, they weren't good friends in some instances. But he was he was always there for me. They also credited him with being a protective factor in the middle of their hostile family environment: When I look back on everything, I feel like he is probably the one reason that… I didn't personally get worse mental health wise. Like, I think that he sort of helped me retain some kind of sanity. And I also think having him in the house might have helped things not get worse, like, abuse towards me wise. I also think sometimes he was weaponized. But I do think having him there definitely helped, sort of harm reduction, I guess.        163  Weaponization. The theme of weaponization emerged in a couple of different ways in Caleb’s narrative. Along with descriptions of how their emotions were mocked and invalidated by their mother, Caleb described how their sexuality and gender identity were used against them. Early on, Caleb did not fit into their mother’s idea of what they should be interested in and how they should present to the world. They were “bullied” for this, and it continued throughout their childhood and adolescence. Their journey to understand themselves—coming out as a lesbian and then as transgender—was met with rejection. In describing this dynamic, they explained how their interests and identity affected their relationship with their mother: So some of it was just that I was sort of a weird kid. I had like… I don't know. They're not that weird looking back, but it wasn't what… she really wanted me to be interested in... Like I know she would bring up a lot that she wanted me to you know, let her play dress up with me and talk about boys with her and stuff like that. Whereas, at the time, I was interested in neither of those things… there was some like, not really bullying, but some snide remarks about me being queer. At the time, I identified as a lesbian. And that was sort of. Like, it… was a sin. They also made it clear that the family distrusted Caleb’s sense of their own identity because Caleb was “too young” to know. These aspects of their identity were frequently invalidated and labeled in harmful ways. Once, at dinner, when their stepfather was asked to pray over the meal, he prayed that he hoped “to bless the food, that it blesses us so that it casts out any evil from our souls,” and that felt directed at Caleb. His stepbrother was deeply influenced by this environment, absorbing much of the same ideology. According to Caleb, their stepbrother’s        164  understanding was that men are strong and women are weak, and Caleb’s identity was something they should be “saved” from.  In addition to these painful experiences, Caleb described how their brother was weaponized against them. There were two prominent examples that Caleb gave: the first was the way that their stepbrother was used as a point of comparison to justify abuse, and another was their mother’s lie to their stepbrother that Caleb hated him, thus orchestrating their division. When his stepfather would be aggressive or threatening, he would minimize what he was doing to Caleb by comparing it to previous abuse toward Caleb’s stepbrother. Caleb said, “he would bring up, like, this is what I've done to [your stepbrother] in the past, so how I'm treating you is fine. In comparison, stuff like that.” This is within the context that their stepfather was physically abusive towards their stepbrother when he was younger. It was also very clear that part of the differential treatment—for better or worse—was due to Caleb not being their stepfather’s biological child. Caleb’s mother also did not take an active stance with their stepbrother, possibly because, according to Caleb, she was competing with his mother.  For about six months before they moved out of their mother’s house, Caleb noticed their stepbrother withdrawing from them seemingly for no reason. When they asked their mom why, she said that he thought Caleb hated him. Sometime later, Caleb’s stepbrother told them that it was their mother who had given him that impression, driving the wedge between them. When asked what it was like for them to discover this, they said, I still don't know what to make of that, honestly. I don't know if it was... some sort of, like, direct manipulation in some way. I don't, I'm not entirely sure what the goal of that        165  was. Other than just to hurt me. For some reason, I'm—I don't know. I was really upset when I heard it. In this case, Caleb’s hypothesis was suggestive of some of the literature in family systems theory, where parents purposefully orchestrate division between their children to serve their own emotional needs (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). Regardless of its intention, to hurt, manipulate, divide, or otherwise, it had a big impact on Caleb and their relationship with their stepbrother. For some time after, Caleb tried to reach out to him, and he would either give one-word responses or not respond at all, even after reading Caleb’s messages:  It was a pretty big mental blow… I was already upset about not being as close to him anymore. And then to find out the reason. It just. I don't know. I know that I probably should have felt betrayed. But I didn't really… As much as it was surprising to hear that my mom did it, I felt more that I should have expected something like that, I guess. The loss of that relationship meant more than just the loss of a close friend and comrade, it also means the loss of a person who had a shared history with them, “I definitely miss him a lot... It definitely does feel like the one other person who fully understands everything that we went through, whether whatever labels we put on it that might be different, it kind of sucks to not talk to him anymore.” Differential Treatment: Gender. One more major theme in Caleb’s narrative was sexism. Caleb and their stepbrother were treated very differently when it came to sexuality, and this was based in their gender identity. In discussing the dynamic before their transition, Caleb described this differential treatment:        166  There is also the dichotomy of when it came to me dating or anything like that. Like I was too young or, I didn't need to be doing that… Whereas [my stepbrother], he started not only dating from a very young age, but I found out that, to my shock, that he was apparently sexually active from his teenage years. And my mom was fine with that, and so was [my stepfather]. Whereas if it were me, it would have been an absolute no. Caleb was also expected to take on traditionally feminine tasks and was punished when they didn’t do so—for example, being yelled at for not cooking for their stepfather. Despite being younger Caleb was often given more responsibility because they were assigned female at birth: While he was older than me, I was still sort of… there was more responsibility placed on me… I have heard recently of like eldest daughter syndrome sort of thing. And I feel like that was sort of placed on me from a young age where, again, I was like, expected to cook for my stepdad or just like, being expected to like, clean everything. Sense of Self: Eldest Daughter Syndrome, Comrade Caleb’s sense of self emerged through their narrative in a few different ways. First, their gender identity developed in a hostile environment. Assigned female at birth, Caleb was seen in a certain way and expected to conform within a rigid idea of female gender identity and heteronormativity. Where Caleb’s interests and sense of self conflicted with these traditional norms, there was great difficulty—particularly with their mother. Caleb resisted these dynamics, labeling their situation as something akin to “eldest daughter syndrome,” where being the daughter also meant fulfilling a role of service to the family, even at great cost to the self. Along with the previous examples of being punished for not cooking for their stepfather, being        167  expected to clean, etc., Caleb described another instance where the demand placed on them was excessive: They had a barn with horses and they wanted me to help shovel the hay and all of that stuff. And the thing is, I have really bad asthma and really, really bad allergies that aggravate the asthma. So I was physically unable to do that, which got turned into an argument because I was ‘just exaggerating how I was feeling.’ So yeah… All of that put together kind of aggravated what was already there, I guess. Their sense of themself, their gender identity, and queerness all formed in opposition to a lot of the expectations of their mother’s household, and they had to withstand a great deal of invalidation—even from their stepbrother, who was a significant ally for them during that time. The religious perspective he adopted framed Caleb’s experience and identity as sin and deviation, thus his hope that Caleb could be “saved.”  This was perhaps more painful given that Caleb’s stepbrother served as an important positive influence for them, shaping their identity and interests in an affirming way as well. Despite some early turmoil, they were able to bond over time through similar interests. Before high school, Caleb talked about being “not cool enough” for him. They said, “he was too cool for me because he was in high school. I was his 13-year-old little sister.” Their eventual ability to connect had a big impact on Caleb.  Mixed Narrative Congruence: The Impact of Identification Another important element of Caleb’s story involved the mixed narrative congruence between them and their stepbrother. On the one hand, Caleb gave several examples of times where it was clear their stepbrother agreed with them about the dynamics of the home. He        168  complained about his father and came to recognize Caleb’s mother as also creating a sense of hostility. However, Caleb pointed out that he would not necessarily agree with Caleb on terms:  That's the other thing with [him]. While I use the term abusive and abuse for everything that they did, even though he agreed that his dad didn't really treat everyone greatly, I don't think he ever agreed upon the term ‘abusive’ at any point, even though his dad treated him the worst out of anybody at some points. I mean, at least when he was younger… I definitely don't think that he would agree with the term abuse now. After my mom sort of, like, divided us, he sort of got a lot closer to his dad in his sense, sort of, become like a carbon copy of his dad. Caleb credited his stepbrother’s identification with his father as a driving force in how he labeled and understood the dynamics they were embedded in. This was a painful point for Caleb, as they worried about him and how he might handle what had happened, given this move to “emulate” his father. They worked at the same place, spoke the same, and shared some of the same conservative values and religious beliefs. When asked how this differential narrative affected Caleb, they said that while they don’t know how their stepbrother treats people, they worry that he may be at a point where he might see everything that happened as being “fine.” He worried that his stepbrother might bury some of the more painful meanings of his experiences, and that he will struggle to handle what happened to him.   When asked how it was that Caleb came to understand what happened to them as abuse, they said: I think definitely my dad. When I told him about, like, everything going on, he took it very seriously. And he was the one who said like ‘that is abusive.’ I mean, my dad…        169  since I have grown up, we've had more conversations where my mom was like emotionally abusive towards him as well before they got divorced. And that was sort of what drove him to divorce. So… he already knew how my mom was, and with being a cop he knew a lot about the signs of abuse and what is classified as abuse. So when I told him about what was going on, he put the dots together pretty quickly. Their father, throughout their narrative, served as a source of strength and support. It seemed significant that their father was not only a positive presence but was also able to offer an alternative narrative to the one Caleb received at their mother’s.  Holistic Analysis of Form: Camaraderie to Estrangement  The form of Caleb’s narrative followed a steady path to a sharp regression as their relationship with their stepbrother moved from camaraderie to estrangement. While in one sense, their narrative progressed towards greater safety and validation the more custody their father got, their focus on their sibling and the disappointment of the loss of that relationship are more significant to their story in this case. Early conflict between Caleb and their stepbrother seemed to be mitigated by their mutual love for video games, and a shared understanding of their home as chaotic. A turning point that helped their relationship grow was Caleb’s entrance into high school, as this put them on a more even field. They were able to commiserate together, as well as enjoy themselves, despite some of the hurtful ideas that Caleb’s stepbrother had about gender. There seemed to be a steadiness to their relationship for most of Caleb’s childhood and adolescence followed by a dramatic downward turn.   The major turning point in Caleb’s narrative occurred during the difficult time when their parents went to court again for custody. In an already emotionally difficult time, Caleb’s        170  stepbrother withdrew from them after their mother lied about Caleb hating him. This pointed to an underlying thematic propellant that shaped Caleb’s narrative: the influence and manipulation of their parents.   Caleb’s narrative was cohesive in that they told a linear narrative and made several connections that spoke to the meaning and cause of major events in their history and relationship with their stepbrother. In terms of mythic form, they maintained a somewhat ironic texture in their story. At those points where the most troubling things happen, Caleb used a sarcastic tone—when his stepfather threatened him with a knife, they said “so that was not fun” to qualify it, and when their mother settled for less visitation as long as she doesn’t have to pay more child support, Caleb called this “funny.” There was vague pessimism and confusion throughout, as well as the grief experienced when their stepbrother disengaged from their friendship. Ironies tend to connect to “the failed attempts to solve the mysteries of life,” and contain the message that the ambiguities of life are often larger than we are (McAdams 1993, p. 52). It seemed that for a time, Caleb and their stepbrother managed to connect despite some of the odds being against them. Unfortunately, the end of Caleb’s narrative gestures towards some of the inevitabilities of loss that are outside our control in life and in our connections to those we love.  Member Check Unfortunately, Caleb did not respond to requests to participate in the member check interview.  Lena Narrative Summary At the time of the interview, Lena was 34 years old and described herself as a White, heterosexual, cis gender woman. She signed on to our Zoom interview from Arkansas, where she        171  lives with her children and husband. In the background, there was a clear acrylic cross with pink flowers on an otherwise bare wall. She gave the impression of being a gentle, thoughtful person, and spoke in a measured way. Lena started with a briefer, overarching narrative, which then deepened as we built a dialogue around the progression of her experiences.  In childhood, she lived with her parents and her sister, who is about six and a half years younger than her. In describing her childhood, she said that the “best way to sum it up” was that they grew up in a “very isolated, closed off home system.” She was homeschooled through eighth grade (with a stint in public kindergarten), though she used the term homeschooled “very loosely,” and noted that educational neglect was also a big part of her and her sister’s experience. She described how the home was very authoritarian with strict religious control, which created a culture of judgment and shame. This, along with the fact that she and her sister were homeschooled and discouraged from interacting with other kids, isolated them from the larger world. Lena described how she was discouraged from questioning anything and made to feel ashamed of her body and sexuality. While initially an outspoken kid who tried to push back, she turned into “somebody who’s still today struggling with trying to find a voice. And feel okay speaking up.”  She noted that even though her father would get angry and beat them with a belt and a paddle, he was the “safe parent” in comparison to her mother. Though undiagnosed, Lena said that her mother “meets a lot of the characteristics of narcissism.” She went on to describe her mother’s way of engaging the world: Everything was expected to be about her and made to be about her. Image was the most important thing over everything else. And she instilled that in us as kids to the point        172  where you were afraid to be looked at wrong. You were always criticized. You're always put down, like you just never could... give her enough and meet the standard. We were meeting her emotional needs rather than her meeting ours. In adulthood, her relationship with her father shifted because he doesn’t have the “same power” he used to and does not lose his temper with her in the same way. Her relationship with her mother remains strained because it is affected by an “interpersonal social dynamic. That doesn’t really change, necessarily. Even with age.” Lena also discussed how her mother likely had her own trauma as well as anxiety, and this likely contributed to the “suffocating” nature of their home environment.  In explaining her sister’s place in the story of her childhood, she described the ways that their differing roles took shape around her mother’s expectations. She was not close to her sister when they were young in part because of these roles: her sister was the golden child, typically lauded for fulfilling more of their mother’s ideals when it came to femininity, and Lena was the scapegoat who often did not meet those expectations. During their childhood, Lena and her sister were “pitted against each other.” Before her sister was born, Lena’s mother told her that she wasn’t sure if she should have another baby because she didn’t know if she would love anyone as much as she loved Lena. Later on, she would tell Lena that once she went to kindergarten, she was “no longer [her] sweet little girl.” Lena described how for her, this pointed to a time where she was becoming more individuated, and she was exposed to things that were “no longer with [her] mother and through her lens.” This seemed to open a door for Lena’s sister to take on the role of the golden child. Lena described how when her sister was about four years old her mother’s comparisons started, and her younger sister was clearly the favorite. While both faced        173  the same expectations, their responses were different—Lena described how she initially fought back and then shut down and would hide, and her sister’s response was to “fawn” and identify with their mother. Her sister started taking ballet, which became a focal point for the family, and over time became more and more like their mother. Lena, on the other hand, said she was consistently framed as an outsider. She said that their mother also spoke negatively to each of them about the other, facilitating the distance between Lena and her sister.  Lena discussed how when she was a teenager, she was groomed by an older man, the father of one of her friends. Desperate for attention and affection—and feeling unheard—she found herself vulnerable to his attempts to lure her into an inappropriate relationship. When her parents found out, they put a stop to the contact but also shifted some responsibility on her. Lena described how they said she “should have known better,” and were never curious about what vulnerabilities led to the situation. This, she said, illustrated how out of touch they were with her emotional experience and what she was going through in the home.   A shift occurred when Lena moved out of the house and she and her sister were able to connect on a superficial level—getting along, but not close. She described how four or five years before the time of the interview, there was a turning point: her sister started dating someone that their mother did not approve of. This departure from their mother’s expectations catalyzed a series of events which would eventually bring Lena and her sister much closer. Lena said that in reaction to her sister’s dating, their mother started calling Lena wanting to talk or go out to lunch to talk about how “horrible” her sister’s treatment of her was. This unsupportive reaction caused Lena’s sister to begin questioning the family dynamic. When she turned to Lena for support after experiencing abuse in her relationship, they slowly began to talk about the dynamics in their        174  family. They realized that they shared the same understanding of their home as abusive and started to piece together a mutual narrative. This sequence of conversations led them to be more genuine with each other, mutually validating one another while processing their history together.  Lena said that now, in adulthood, they are much closer. Her sister was finally able to find employment outside of her parents’ dance studio and moved to a different state. Lena has been in a healthy marriage with her partner for several years. According to Lena, her sister is the only family member (on both her side and her husband’s side) that they trust with their children. She said, “we can still have family in our lives that we can trust, and that’s very valuable. It means a lot.” Narrative Themes Isolation and Restriction. Lena started her narrative by naming a central issue that would color the entirety of her narrative: the impact of isolation and control. She went on to describe the ways that her family was cut off from the outside. She and her sister were homeschooled—her sister all the way through high school—and they did not spend a lot of time around other people or children, as others weren’t “good enough.” Religion was taken up in their home in a way that created a culture of fear, judgment, and shame, which added to the sense of control. From her description, it was: a very religiously controlling home. I am still religious myself, but my family used religion almost in a cult sort of fashion as a way to like, maintain control, created a, very much a culture of fear, a culture of judging, a culture of shaming, of just about everything… Given that, paired with homeschooling isolation, we were really never        175  around a lot of other kids, a lot of other people, nobody else was good enough and… you were expected to toe a certain line and things did not go well for you if you did not. The isolation was key to the perpetuation of abuse. Their experiences of physical abuse, educational and emotional neglect, and manipulation were the norm, as there was nothing else to compare it to. She said, “I didn't realize how messed up some of that was, I guess because it was just normal and I wasn't really around other kids and their families to know anything different. This was just what parents did with kids.” The outside world was portrayed as a dangerous place. She remembers, in particular, internalizing a view of public school where the students had sex in the hallways and she could get shot and killed. This served as a major deterrent to going to school and having more contact with the outside world.   A lack of education was also important in Lena’s story, as their mother did not provide them with adequately rigorous schooling. Her version of home school history, for example, was to take Lena’s sister to a Barnes and Noble, get coffee, and look at a book together for a bit. Lena discussed how while she was eventually able to go to high school, her sister never went. Examples of the impact of this were interspersed throughout her story: I was pregnant with my oldest and was talking to my sister. So she would have been late teens, maybe? And I made some comment about how I found out I was pregnant, was like tracking my cycle and stuff. And she's like, ‘what does that have to do with being pregnant?’ I'm like, ‘what does your period have to do..? Like? You know what a period is right? And how it happens?’ Like she had no like the concept of ovulation, menstruation… What any of that meant or what was going on physically… she had no clue.        176  Lena described how her sister now feels like she missed out on a lot and has struggled with confidence:  She feels stupid a lot because she technically, like, technically graduated, but she doesn't even know if she has a diploma. Or where it would be, and was talked out of going to college or even thinking about that as an option. So like, I know that that's something she deals with a lot. Feeling like she is still crippled by to some extent. Lena also described how they were restricted in other ways—prevented from having certain experiences, for example. Lena offered her mother’s fear and anxiety as one motivating factor for restricting what they were allowed to do: We weren't allowed to do things… she would put sticks in the backyard and be like, ‘you can't cross these lines. You need to stay here because I can see you out the window or you can't,’ you know. When I got a little bit older and wanted to like roller skate, it was like, ‘well, you can only roller skate if you're wearing, like, basically all of this ridiculous amount of padding and only in these specific parameters. And if I'm like, right outside to watch,’ and you know, just kept layering on enough things that made it less enjoyable of an experience. They were also discouraged from displaying natural curiosity and wanting to understand things: Any little question, active questioning. Like I have been told, this is a big negative trait about me as a kid, that I always wanted to know why, I wanted to understand. Which, I have kids. I can see why that can be frustrating. But this was treated basically as an act of defiance and not acceptable at all. You are not to question. Like she would literally quote some poem at me about ‘yours is not to question why, yours is but to do or die.’ And I        177  really don't know where that comes from exactly, but it was the thing she'd throw at us. Like you're not supposed to ask questions, you're just supposed to do what you're told. When she would resist and continue to question or assert herself, it was seen as a bad trait to be beaten out of her. “I just thought I was a bad kid,” she said.  This consistent isolation and restriction closed Lena and her sister off from the possibility of seeing that their situation was an abusive and unhealthy one, and fortified conditions for the perpetuation of abuse. We might consider how these dynamics function by closing off the individual from any possibility of building a different narrative than the one presented in the home. For example, if the outside world was painted as too dangerous, then they might never leave. They would always serve whatever function or purpose their mother needed them to, their own autonomy foreclosed. Now as a parent herself, Lena reflected on what it was like to see her own son have more access to the world and its resources than she did at his age: My oldest just got diagnosed with ADHD and I'm looking at a lot of the things he struggles with or does behaviorally and this reminds me a lot of me as a kid. So it makes me wonder, if I had been in the school system, was that something that I struggled with as well? I know how my parents would have handled these things and [it] kind of makes me sad sometimes. Sometimes it's healing, but sometimes it makes me sad. Taking care of my son and just being like, ‘I wish I had gotten this as a kid.’ On the one hand, it is healing that she can give him a different experience. On the other, she mourns what she was not able to have herself due to the isolation imposed upon her. It makes sense, then, that so much of Lena’s journey seems to have been about breaking that isolation.        178  Cultivated Opposition. Lena and her sister were not only closed off from the outside world, they were also closed off from each other. As Lena described it, they “were sort of pitted against each other.” As previously mentioned, this dynamic was facilitated by the way her mother cultivated opposing scapegoat/golden child roles for them in the family. She said, “she met a lot more like mom's ideal of what a woman should be, what a girl should be… So I used to really resent her. We were not close at all as children.” This theme seems to start off with a memory that Lena shared: I would say that probably that specific dynamic probably started more when she was about four or so. I was probably like, 10, 11. Prior to that, Mom used to talk about how close she and I were… I guess I must have been like five… it was before my sister was born, because I can remember her telling me, like when I would ask about having a sibling, ‘Well, I don't know if I want to have another baby because I don't know if I could love anybody as much as I love you.’ Which was like, in hindsight, kind of a weird thing to tell a kid. Over time, Lena and her sister developed different reactions to the same issues. She described their very different responses: I think my way of responding to the situation was to either fight back at first or to just shut down and hide. And I think my sister's response was more of like the fawning response of like, okay, ‘I'm going to try to like pattern myself after you. I'm going to try and like, be like you.’ My sister and my mom were joined at the hip from very early and for a very long time. She started taking ballet. Mom really, really liked that. And that... honestly kind of took over our lives at that point. Everything became about ballet to the        179  point that my parents actually still run… a ballet studio and started a dance company in our area... And none of this was even at the request of my sister, which is kind of the weird thing. They kind of pigeonholed her from the age of about seven or eight until like, ‘well, you could teach dance. You'd be really good at teaching.’ And then have done all of these things, including starting a school and all of this. And I, we've, kind of been talking about this and how it felt like this is kind of their way of like trying to keep her here and keep her, like, kind of still a bit under their control. Of the two sisters, Lena was the “nerdy kid,” the one whose way of engaging the world fell consistently short of her mother’s expectations: I'm still kind of a geek, so, you know, whatever. I'm cool with it now, but it used to hurt my feelings, cause mom would literally introduce us to people sometimes—and I think to her, she was making a joke, but to me, it… felt shaming or like, just negative—like she would introduce us to people, like, ‘oh like this is this is my daughter that likes to play with swords and this is my ballerina. And then let me tell you all about all the things she's doing.’ And it just felt like, ‘here’s my weird kid and here’s my, like, amazing kid.’ And it just, I don't know, like, it always felt like the things that I was into were never right or... they were things to be made fun of, I guess. Lena and her sister’s differences were amplified when it came to femininity, with Lena never quite performing femininity up to their mother’s standards. She taught Lena and her sister that they were never to leave the house without makeup on. However, Lena always did her makeup “wrong.” Her mother’s response to this was to do it for her:        180  So it would get to the point where she would just do my makeup every morning before school and I would let her do it because it was easier than trying to do it myself and just getting told it was wrong. But I think that messed with my head enough that like, even now, I rarely wear makeup. I just don't... I never really learned how to do it on my own. And I think I just have a very adverse reaction to it because it was pushed on me for so long that it's just become, I don't know, kind of a thing, but I don't know that that's something that would've developed if it had been handled a little bit more normally. I mean, I don't know, like who does their high schooler's hair and makeup every morning? It's just a bit weird. This consistent, deliberate control over Lena’s appearance seemed to take on the meaning that Lena’s way of presenting herself and engaging the world was inadequate in her mother’s eyes. It also functioned to undermine Lena’s autonomy. Her sister, on the other hand, was the sibling who got it “right,” idealized for her appearance and encouraged to engage in traditionally feminine activities like ballet.  At the time, their mother’s influence drove a wedge between Lena and her sister beyond typical sibling rivalry. They weren’t communicating with each other. Lena saw her sister as like their mom—a “mom 2.0”—and assumed that she didn’t like Lena and thought she was weird. It was hard to trust her sister, given how much she seemed to identify with their mother: I was never really comfortable with how close she was with Mom. And I felt like she was just as judgmental. Or could be. And I also just had this image of her in my head that was probably somewhat, you know, somewhat maybe distanced, like I just don't know her. So all I can go on is what I see. So it's kind of a superficial image. And somewhat        181  based on things that, like mom would put in my head about her. So, like from Mom, I almost got this idea of her as being this, like, really vain kind of person.  Lena went on to describe how she and her sister discovered their mother’s manipulation:  I can remember [my sister] and I talking at one point and mom had been telling me all about, you know. ‘I'm worried about [your sister’s] clothing choices. Her clothes are just getting tighter and tighter. You know, she's barely squeezing herself into these jeans. And this is just, you know, her skirts are getting shorter and this is just not appropriate. And I'm worried about her.’ And then when [my sister] and I would actually talk, she'd go like, ‘Mom picked out all my clothes.’ Lena’s sister would also eventually tell Lena that their mother influenced how she saw her: She kind of saw me as… just kind of being weird, you know? ‘You're into all of these, like, weird books and nerdy things, and that's just weird.’ You know, that kind of viewpoint. ‘You're the eccentric one.’ And mom, I guess, would go to her and talk about me as being the person that caused conflict. ‘Why can't she just get along with everybody?’ And, you know, ‘why does she always have to be such a problem or be so dramatic about everything?’ So that kind of created this like view of like, ‘you're the one with rough edges here.’  Lena’s sister was influenced to see her as combative rather than reactive—an important distinction that placed the responsibility on Lena as a troublemaker, rather than someone having a normal reaction to abnormal circumstances. Lena’s sister also admitted that she was relieved to not be the one who was getting in trouble all the time, and it pushed her to act “extra good.”        182  After Lena moved out, things got better in the sense that that they were no longer rubbing shoulders. Though not close, they were pleasant to each other. It wasn’t until several years later that they were able to speak frankly to one another about what they had experienced.  Autonomy and Connection. Throughout her childhood and adolescence, Lena’s strivings for autonomy were repeatedly shut down, with signs of independence marked as negative. According to Lena, her mother was uncomfortable with Lena becoming more independent: She used to say, ‘as soon as you went to kindergarten, everything changed.’ Like, ‘I lost you, you were no longer my sweet little girl.’ And all I can figure is that that's probably when I became more individuated. Like I was exposed to things and doing things that were no longer with her and through her lens. And so maybe that's has something to do with why she feels like this was such a big negative change. When Lena had children of her own, her mother warned her that after kindergarten, her children would “never be the same” so she should “enjoy them now.” Lena and her sister were controlled in terms of what they did, said, and had access to in terms of education and differing perspectives. In light of this, it makes sense that another overarching theme for Lena’s story with her sister is the pursuit of autonomy and connection. Lena, perhaps in relation to her role as the scapegoat, frequently stepped outside the bounds of her mother’s expectations. This led her to begin questioning the dynamics of the family somewhat earlier on than her sister. For example, she fought with her parents to go to public high school and won.  Lena’s sister first began to question things after her own transgression—at twenty-two, she began dating someone who wasn’t handpicked by their mother. Their mother was        183  unsupportive and critical of this move away from her expectations, and her attempts to manipulate Lena only further raised questions about how she and her sister might collaboratively understand what was happening. Lena described this pivotal moment in their relationship: Well, my sister did something that stepped outside of the box she was supposed to be in when she started dating... and Mom did not approve. Like, it was weird because at this point I had already started processing some of the dynamics myself about the family. I was kind of starting to unpack my own childhood stuff. So like, I was already kind of skeptical. But it was weird. Mom started suddenly calling me and wanting to talk, or wanting to go out to lunch, or take me out to lunch, or go do things or ‘let's go shopping.’ And it was when things were breaking down with [my sister]. Like it almost felt really manipulative. And then she'd like, want to tell me all about... the horrible way [my sister] was treating her, and I would be like, ‘my baby is in the car crying. I need to get her home and take a nap.’ And mom's like, ‘no, I'm going to sit in the car and tell you all about how [your sister’s] going to regret this when she gets older’ and... I think it was that, that kind of caused [my sister] to start questioning things as well. Because this was not a supportive reaction at all. In going against their mother’s wishes, Lena’s sister demonstrated a level of autonomy that seems to have unsettled her mother’s sense of control. Her unsupportive response seems to have catalyzed something important for Lena’s sister as well. When her sister turned to her for support, Lena was initially cautious about sharing her interpretations of their mother’s behavior, as she didn’t want to “put ideas in [her] head.” However, as Lena’s sister began to share, it was clear that they had more in common than they initially might have expected. She said, “hearing        184  that from her and hearing her start to talk about some of the things she remembered from her side of the story, it was just like, holy crap. Like, I’m not crazy. Like, you saw this too.”  This was a pivotal moment in Lena’s narrative for both her and her sister. In gaining autonomy from their mother and building their narrative together, they seemed to create a sense of mutual validation and resonance. She said, “for me it was just hugely validating to know that, like, you remembered some of this too. Sometimes you can like add to things that I’d forgotten or vice versa, and the picture is consistent.” This seems to have enabled them to bridge the gap between them and transform their relationship. Lena described how they both have also actively worked towards building their individual autonomy. The journey has not been entirely easy or without frustration, and Lena described some of the things she is still working through in therapy: I think that I've definitely learned to be a people pleaser. I've learned to have a lot of anxieties about basically everything. Particularly judgment from people… So there's always this fears those anxieties, things that I need to kind of suppress myself. There's a sense of guilt, right? Everything seems to have a moral weight attached to it that really probably shouldn't… My mom tried to shame me at one point for wearing a scarf because I could have spent that money on something for my kid… just any little… everything is selfish, everything is wrong, you know? Just trying to learn to question those things and try to sort out what I actually believe and what's just conditioned fear or whatever is very much an ongoing process. That's very frustrating. We might think, however, that this difficult process is a striving towards internal autonomy, a restructuring of the internalized messages that kept Lena voiceless as she grew up. She also        185  described recognizing these strivings in her sister as well. In describing her sister’s current situation, Lena said, “she's actually working her first real job, or like first job outside of being employed by my parents. This year, she up and moved to Iowa.” From this, we can begin to understand just how difficult it must have been to try and individuate while still living in the same location as their parents. It seems to be something that has taken great courage. “It's been hard and scary,” Lena said, “I'm really proud of her.” Sense of Self: Scapegoat, Questioner  Over the course of her narrative, Lena made several transitions in terms of her sense of self in relation to her sister. As the scapegoat, the “geek,” the “weird” one of the two sisters according to her mother, she was consistently made to feel like her way of being and engaging the world was wrong. Her tendency to question, to use her voice, was regularly squashed by verbal and physical abuse. In terms of how this affected her sense of self, she thought she was a “bad kid,” taking on a sense of guilt that she was still working through many years later. In adolescence, and after, she was the one who “caused conflict” and couldn’t “get along.” However, her sense of herself in opposition also seems to have given her something to resist and form herself through that resistance. Her independence and desire for autonomy served her in very concrete ways while also helping her resist the damaging, one-dimensional message she received about herself from her mother. It led her to fight hard enough for the chance to go to public high school and get a better education. It led her to have the courage to begin questioning her past and the narrative she was given in the first place. She was also able to open up to her sister and let in the possibility of connection and growth despite the ways they had been orchestrated towards separation. In describing her sister’s impact on who she is, she said:        186  I think partly just because we weren’t close and because the age difference was so much there, we probably weren’t as close as kids, forming each other around each other… because she was so hyper-feminized… and also just because of the pressure from my mom, I think that probably caused me to develop a little bit more in the opposite direction. Like, well, I’m just not going to do beauty stuff. I’m not going to do girly stuff, like I am turned off by all of these things because of the way you are, the way my mom pushed. She gained a sense of herself in part through differentiation, from identifying what she wasn’t in relation to her mother and sister. In turn, we see a glimpse of this from her sister as well, who admitted that because Lena was the one who was in trouble all the time, this gave her incentive to be “extra good,” or, in Lena’s words, taking on a “fawning” response. In both cases, we might consider how each of these responses functioned as a tool for survival in their abusive family system. Lena described how they both have had to work through some of the behavioral patterns, like people pleasing, that initially helped them to survive but created problems for them later in life. We might also propose that in mutually validating each other’s narratives, they were perhaps able to have an enriched sense of themselves and each other validated as well. Part of this meant coming to see herself not as the problematic child, but as having reasonable reactions to an unreasonable situation. Lena has grown to accept herself more, establish healthy boundaries with family, and described actively engaging in a process of defining for herself what she “actually believes” versus what is just conditioned fear.           187  Validation through Narrative Congruence From Lena’s narrative, we can grasp how important narrative congruence was to her individual healing process as well as her growth in connection to her sister. After years of alienation and being set against her sister in polarizing positions, they were able to come together: In listening to her talk to me, she was starting to process things too, and was starting to see some things that I did. And given that at that point, I was still question like, ‘am I crazy? Am I looking for a problem?’ Hearing that from her and hearing her start to talk about some of the things she remembered from her side of the story, it was just like, ‘holy crap. Like, I'm not crazy… you saw this too.’ And so, at that point, I started feeling like, okay, if you're going to volunteer something I’ll volunteer something back, and… we kind of hesitantly started processing stuff more together and realizing things that we thought weren't actually true if we'd actually talk to each other. And it wasn't this one conversation that changed everything. But I think that started a sequence of conversations that led to us both being more genuine with each other. I don't know, for me it was just hugely validating to know that—you remembered some of this too. Sometimes you can like add to things that I'd forgotten or vice versa, and the picture is consistent. This is in stark contrast to her conversations with her mother, who to this day minimizes the abuse and gaslights Lena: My mom will still try to gaslight me, and it’s so frustrating. Just like, ‘no, that didn’t happen. I don’t know why you always make up these stories like this. This never happened.’ Or, you now, ‘you’re remembering it wrong. This is really what was going        188  on.’ And at first it was like, okay… maybe. I realize a kid is going to see things in a way that an adult won’t, and they don’t always have the whole picture. But it happens enough times and with enough other sources of evidence that it’s like, hmm. You know? We may wonder about this in a broader sense, how mutual recognition between siblings may make it easier to lay claim to one’s own narrative, especially in the face of parental gaslighting. Through the sibling the narrative can be affirmed, validated, and therefore made more substantial, more real. As Lena said, her sister’s validation led her to a sense of relief and that her perspective was valid—she wasn’t “crazy” or looking for problems.  Lena described this process with her sister as getting “past the narratives that are given to us and actually be more real with each other and figure things out.” This also had important implications for them as individuals: That relationship with my sibling, like changing, was a big part in my own healing and processing and figuring out everything. It was like probably one of the more validating things that happened was being able to change that relationship with her and talk about things. When asked what it was like to go through this process with her sister, she said: It was horrifying. I don't know, if you had asked me when I was 18, I would have probably said, you know. ‘Yeah, like I had a pretty good family,’ because to me, well, my parents stayed married. They weren't beating each other. Nobody had an alcohol problem, you know, we had good family. It was fine. It was not until really actually looking into all the things that I had sort of blocked out and minimized or just thought was normal, that [I realized] how much was there. And that was really painful. I fell apart a lot. I violently got after a friend of mine for daring to suggest that I had abusive parents and might be        189  dealing with some PTSD only to later have to deal with all of that. So, you know, that was fun. But. Yeah… That was one of the more validating things that happened was connecting with her. This is a continuation of a thread from earlier—the isolation and normalization of abusive dynamics made it difficult to recognize some of the more painful truths of their situation. In connecting with her sister, she was also able to connect to a deeper personal truth that she previously could not access. That process was relational: it was accomplished in connection to her sister. For Lena, her sister had a big role in shaping her healing process, in helping her to “pick up the pieces and make sense of things.”   Now, in adulthood, after piecing together a mutual narrative, both Lena and her sister are more strongly connected to each other, which in and of itself seems to be a form of resistance to the narrative they were given. In addition, they are having experiences that expand their sense of the world and themselves in it. Lena, for example, was never allowed to learn to ride a bike as a kid. She smiled and said, “I learned to ride a bike actually, over COVID, next to my own kid, so. Kind of a weird bonding experience.”  Holistic Analysis of Form: Alienation to Resonance  There is a clear thematic form to Lena’s story, defined by a progression from alienation to resonance. Early on, there was a steady trajectory where Lena was the only child, the one who was closest to her mother—so close that another child feels like an impossibility. Then, there was a period where a shift occurred, defined by two issues—Lena’s attendance of kindergarten, which her mother “lost” her to at around five years old, and comparisons with her sister beginning when Lena is ten and a half and her sister is four. This set the stage for a continuous        190  sense of alienation for Lena. The early part of her story is marked by distance and unease with her sister. There was another shift in her narrative when Lena moved out of the house and she and her sister were no longer “rubbing shoulders.” This allowed them to have some casual, superficial contact—they could laugh together, go to the movies—but there was still a lack of depth.  The major turning point in Lena’s narrative occurred when her sister “stepped outside of the box she was supposed to be in” when she started dating someone her mother didn’t approve of. This opened the door for a slow but steady progression towards sharing, collaborating, and developing closeness. Interestingly, we might think of individuation as a parallel driving force—as they were able to individuate from their mother and identify their family dynamics as abusive and unhappy, Lena and her sister were able to connect more deeply and thrive with a new understanding of their narrative.   Lena’s narrative is cohesive—over the course of our interview, there was an ongoing plot as well as an objective that was reached through a series of events, and Lena described the sequence and causality between those events. While Lena’s initial story was relatively brief, over the course of our time together we were able to discuss its different elements more deeply, in a linear way, ultimately leading to her sense of building a good relationship with her sister. Along the way, Lena made connections between her mother’s actions and how her relationship with her sister developed over time, as well as how their individual behaviors and choices shaped the arc of their story together. It is a progressive narrative in the sense that the plot advances steadily, and eventually reached a more positive place than it was initially, both in terms of Lena’s relationship with her sister as well as her own sense of herself and her healing. It also resembles        191  a comedic form in the sense that she and her sister were able to overcome the obstacles and restrictions they were presented with to reach a place of connection.  Member Check Lena and I met for a member check interview about nine months after our initial meeting. She said that she was still working on her mental health and gaining comfort doing things that had her stepping out of her comfort zone. She said that the interview process had been a positive experience for her overall, and that the summary and themes resonated deeply with her. Reading her narrative summary was particularly helpful, as it offered an opportunity to see her story in a different way, “reading it on paper it seems so obvious. Really points out the areas of trauma, and it was useful to see it detached from myself and seen through outside eyes.”  Participation felt “a little bit healing. I hope it in some small way helps people dealing with this, and the people working with this.” We talked about how this research will contribute to a large body knowledge, making our work together part of something larger than just ourselves. She also commented that seen the common themes between participants helped her to feel “a little less crazy… it makes it feel more real, one more piece towards feeling validated.” It is telling that having her story held in tandem with others, and seeing resonance, helped create a sense of realness and resonance for her as an individual. This points to how trauma is validated and heals in relationship when isolation has been broken and growth in connection is made possible.            192  Chapter 4: Cross-Narrative Findings   In this section there will first be an exploration of the themes that emerged around siblings across the narratives, illuminating how they take up space as salient figures in psychological life. Second, this section addresses common issues that emerged in participants’ discussion of their sense of self and their role in relation to the sibling. The analysis continues with a discussion of salient themes that emerged around narrative congruence across the narratives before a final exploration of holistic analysis of form across the narratives. The Sibling Relationship as Ambivalent Bond: Potential for Transformation or its Foreclosure These narratives can contribute to our understanding of the sibling relationship at several levels, and they resonate with literature on psychoanalysis, systems theory, and trauma. The sibling relationship is an important element in individual psychological and emotional growth, and like any other relationship it contains the capacity for great complexity. The sibling is an ambivalent figure (Orange, 2014). The relationship is not only affected by themes of violence, competition for attention, and dominance as traditionally proposed by psychoanalysis, but also provides an opportunity for the development of conscience, empathy, responsibility, and consideration for others. This has implications for all future lateral relationships (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). The varied themes that emerged in this study reflect this ambivalence, and demonstrate how, in the face of trauma, the sibling is a figure that has the potential to facilitate transformation or contribute to its foreclosure. Traumatic sequelae are recognized in repetition, dissociation, and the crystallization of a painfully restricted view of self and world. The chaos and terror of childhood abuse and neglect, unformulated and unprocessed, can destroy        193  possibility. From these interviews, we see how the sibling who is connected to the individual by these common experiences and shared family milieu can serve as a figure that facilitates traumatic repetition and the foreclosure of possibility beyond the trauma. Alternatively, the sibling relationship can serve as a relational ground for processing, integrating, and ultimately transforming traumatic experience through meaning making and connection. It is important to note that in many cases, these are not mutually exclusive.  Trauma aside, common conceptualizations of the sibling relationship held true across the narratives. At times the sibling was seen as frustrating or hurtful, at other times supportive, thus sparking complex feelings. However, these more typical themes seem to become amplified in traumatic contexts. For example, both Caleb and Elizabeth hold strong positive feelings for their siblings while at the same time acknowledging the conflicts that characterized their early childhoods. They both recognized, for example, that their siblings held harmful beliefs that invalidated their experiences, and they connected these beliefs to some of the more noxious dynamics of their shared household. In Caleb’s case, their brother saw them as in need of “saving” due to their queerness and had other rigid ideas about gender. Elizabeth’s brother had internalized many of their father’s harmful beliefs about gender, which led him to interpret their father’s abusive restriction of Elizabeth as a form of “protection” that was necessary because she is a woman. They both also fought with their siblings in childhood, “despising” them while also turning to them for comfort in the middle of chaotic moments. Both Caleb and Elizabeth described how their sibling was protective for them as well, offering a safe relational harbor amid chaos or acting as an ally in the pursuit of possibilities that would otherwise be unavailable in the family system. Lena talked about her relationship with her sister as one of the most        194  meaningful, healing connections she had cultivated—a hard-won connection after years of painful comparison. In Camille’s narrative, there was a general feeling of antagonism between the sisters until her middle sister eventually took on a much more positive position in her life. For others like Mia and Alaina, there was a distinct sense of grief at having lost the potential of what might have been a transformational relationship with the sibling, pointing once more towards a transformational aptitude even if it is only experienced in imagination.  Several participants made clear connections between their relationship with their sibling and how they navigate the lateral world as adults. In some cases, the role they played alongside their sibling was the role they continued to play—particularly in abusive family systems where the participant took on a protector role. In some cases, there was an eventual need to shift roles for the sake of self-preservation. Similarly, for others their narrative evolved such that their sense of self exceeded its previous confines and had to adapt to fit the new narrative structure. Alaina and Barry both initially served a supportive role in the lives of their siblings before eventually needing to draw firm boundaries. While their home environments had demanded that they take on a caretaker and protector role, respectively, in adulthood they both grew to understand their own needs for self-preservation. Their narratives share this recognition as a turning point that leads them to withdraw support when their boundaries were crossed by siblings. In this way, with differing degrees of conflict, they loosen the grip of responsibility to others at their own expense—something instilled in them by the dynamics of their childhoods. In Mark’s case, one of his brothers had initially offered a relationship in which he could play a positive role that was meaningful for him even after the relationship became strained. Lena described how she was        195  able to both receive and provide support to her sister after their rigid roles had been reconfigured through developing a new communal narrative.   These examples demonstrate how some of the narratives directly brought in a sense of ambivalence about their sibling and the role they play in their story. Together, all the narratives also show how the sibling relationship can serve as a site of growth and transformation or one of foreclosure and traumatic repetition. In addition to themes of transformation and foreclosure, a common theme across narratives was meaning making. Within this thematic category emerge the ways that the participants made sense of their history with the sibling in mind—how responsibility and divergent outcomes apply to their sense of themselves and their sibling, and how their understanding of their experience shapes their values and behavior today. For many, the meaning making process itself was fraught with ambivalence.  It is also clear across the narratives that the vertical and lateral relational planes of the family system are intertwined, with the vertical axis having a great deal of impact on the lateral. The sibling relationship is always embedded in context, and thus this capacity or role in the narrative is, without exception, influenced by the parents. In many cases, sibling relationships were also influenced by adjacent outsiders, such as abusers outside the family.  The first several subthemes under foreclosure—inversion, cultivated opposition/weaponization, isolation/restriction, and betrayal—are more actively destructive in quality. The subthemes of passivity, avoidance, and lost potential point to foreclosure as it arises from absence or inaction. Subthemes of transformation included support, alliance, and the healthy navigation of autonomy and connection. The theme of meaning-making lies adjacent as a        196  phenomenon that each of the participants reckoned with in different ways and with varying degrees of conflict. Foreclosure  Often the experience of trauma leads to a foreclosure of possibility. We can imagine this, for example, in family dynamics that shut down the possibility of connection, or in damaging family templates that are passed down and re-enacted with a dearth of other ways of engaging the world. We can also think of foreclosure in post-traumatic sequelae, in how one’s sense of self and world shrink, and how traumatic repetition can take the form of repeated violence or victimization. The following themes concern foreclosure as it emerged in relation to the sibling and the impact of abuse and neglect.  Inversion, Cultivated Opposition/Weaponization, Isolation/Restriction, Betrayal. The realities of trauma are inscribed within each of the narratives given by participants. Trauma occurs where there is an encounter with that which is so deeply unbearable it overrides one’s capacity to cope. Each participant’s narrative was embedded within a context of abuse or neglect, with dynamics ranging from forceful brutality to multiple forms of severe neglect as well as emotional abuse and manipulation. For the purposes of this study, the term inversion applies in two ways. First, it can be understood as describing the inversion of the parent-child relationship, where the children are made responsible for adult burdens (Bacciagaluppi, 1985). Secondly, it can be understood as an “inversion of love,” referencing the chaos of violent abuse and the presence of dynamics that act in opposition to healthy human development (Skuse, 1989, p. 1692). In other words, inversion emerged as a theme in reference to both the chaos and violence of an abusive home as well as the impact of neglect. This theme was also relevant in the        197  narratives when children took on roles as caretakers and protectors, or when parents deliberately orchestrated division between siblings. This overarching theme was clear in all eight narratives. Inversion emerged directly from parental dynamics, whether through their failure to step in and provide appropriate care and support, enacting blatant violence and abuse, or use of the sibling relationship as a relational field in which to enact splitting, projective identification, or otherwise satisfy their own psychological needs. In all cases, the failure of the parents to take on their role as parent created the conditions for compensation as well as contamination and spillover, a phenomenon reflected in family systems literature (Katz & Tener, 2020). In compensation, siblings will take on a caretaker role and provide the love, support, care, and protection that the parent does not. In contamination and spillover, the sibling subsystem is affected by the larger family dynamics such that there is violence, abuse, etc. that mirror that of the parents.   Mark, Barry, and Elizabeth all took on a protector or advocate role with their siblings in their narratives, while Mia stepped in as a protector for her mother and grew to resent her brothers for not taking more of a protector role as well. In each of these cases, young children were up against overwhelming adult forces, including abuse by parents, addiction, and domestic violence—in some cases facing the stark realities of poverty as well. The impact varies, in some cases leading the “protector” to experience great physical and emotional harm in their efforts to prevent their sibling from being hurt, or a rigid sense of self that has an impact on daily life and the structure of relationships. Their description of their experiences clearly reflected much of the literature on roles in family systems where abuse pulls for one child to act as protector where no responsible adult does so (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). Alaina and Camille both shared neglect as a driving force in their narratives and were both negatively affected by adults        198  expecting children to behave like parents. In their narratives, Alaina’s parents were passive, either uninvolved or in need of rescue, and Camille’s mother worked all night and slept all day, leaving her daughters to fend for themselves. Alaina’s narrative illustrates the element of compensation, as she was expected to serve as a stand-in mother figure for her brothers due to differential expectations based on her gender. In Camille’s narrative, her sisters were also expected to step in and become caretakers in the face of neglect. This resulted not only in deprivation of her basic needs, but also abuse by her sisters as well as vulnerability to sexual abuse by someone outside the family. While her older sister claimed to have filled the mothering role, Camille does not remember it. Though it seems intuitive that more violent forms of abuse would inspire protector/protected roles and neglectful dynamics caretaking ones, Camille’s narrative shows us the diversity in which these dynamics form and play themselves out. This seems to fit aspects of Mitchell’s theory about the Law of the Mother, in which there is the introduction of seriality, difference, and a sense of there being enough space for self and other (Mitchell, 2013). With the sense of scarcity engendered by their mother’s absence and her lack of intervention, there was a failure to establish the boundaries that might have mitigated the abuse Camille experienced from her sisters.    For Caleb and Lena, a central issue in their narratives was how their mothers each orchestrated division between them and their siblings for their own purposes. In Lena’s case, it seemed to be an issue of splitting and projective identification, with Lena labeled as the scapegoat and her sister the golden child. In the literature, the scapegoated child is often thought to be the recipient of those intolerable, projected parts of the parent’s self (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). This functioned also as a weaponization of comparison, where Lena consistently        199  failed to meet her mother’s expectations. In the case of Caleb and their brother, though there wasn’t a clear scapegoat/golden child dynamic, their mother still seemed to deliberately orchestrate their division, possibly to meet her own psychological needs. Caleb’s interpretation of this was that it was deliberately done to hurt them, thus reiterating the sibling as weaponizable by the parent in abusive family systems (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). In a different vein, Barry spoke to how his siblings were used against him—specifically, that his parents would be abusive towards his sister to hurt him emotionally, knowing how much he cared for and wanted to protect her. A small but significant detail in Elizabeth’s narrative was her father citing her brother as a reason why he took the money that she inherited—it wasn’t “fair” that she got all the money, and so he would hold onto it for her and eventually give it to the both of them. This can be seen as a weaponization of her care for her brother for purposes of manipulation.   Parental influences on isolation and restriction have a clear impact in several of the narratives, most notably for Lena and Mia. In both narratives, there was a religious element that contributed to their separation from possible sources of support. For Lena, her staunchly religious family dynamic fueled a sense of the outside world as dangerous or “not good enough” for Lena and her sister. In this way, they were kept from going to school and talking to other kids or being exposed to other parents. In Mia’s narrative, the isolation stemmed from stigma. Though surrounded by possibly helpful others at church, the pressure to conform to an ideal prevented them from showing any hint of imperfection—including revealing the domestic violence. Mia related this to Asian culture and the high expectations not only of children, but of the family system in general in terms of upholding a certain standard.         200  Finally, Mark’s narrative most explicitly contained betrayal as a theme of foreclosure. He described how he was loyal to his family members, kept their secrets, and attempted to protect them despite their continual abuse of him. He noted that his sister took on their father’s traits, including a tendency to manipulate. Ultimately, it was his sister’s betrayal of his trust that led to the end of their connection. His half-brother’s attack on him was also framed as a kind of betrayal that occurred despite Mark’s history of supporting and defending him. Themes of loyalty and betrayal were not only central to his narrative, but to his sense of his own identity as well.  No siblings are an island. In each of the narratives, the family dynamic as a whole has an impact on whether and how the sibling emerged as a figure of foreclosure or potential. In these themes, the parental dynamics of abuse and neglect were taken up and repeated by siblings, resulting in children taking on burdensome roles that foreclosed their own needs or otherwise facilitating a shutting down of possible connection through manipulation. It is also necessary to consider how these narratives reflect the ways that children’s reactions to abuse are often driven by the need to survive or an inability to cope with the extreme conditions (Herman, 1992; Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018).  Passivity, Avoidance, and Lost Potential. Other themes related to foreclosure were passivity and avoidance—both in discussing their histories as well as avoiding responsibility—and lost potential. Passivity and avoidance emerged as strong themes in the sibling relationship for Mia, Caleb, Alaina, and Camille. Mia lamented her brothers’ passivity and avoidance of responsibility. From her perspective, they failed to step in and protect their mother and failed to provide emotional resonance and comfort both during their father’s violent episodes and        201  afterwards when Mia was struggling to make sense of what happened to them. Throughout her narrative, there was a sense of grieving lost potential. She imagined how in different circumstances they might have offered support to one another, and there might have been closeness and growth. For Alaina, her brother’s avoidance of difficult topics like differential treatment built a barrier between them. His resistance to recognizing her position in the family served as a failure of empathy that foreclosed the possibility of a deep, meaningful connection. He also failed to take responsibility for sexually abusing his stepdaughters. In Caleb’s narrative, their brother seemed to fade into the background, giving half-hearted responses to their texts or not answering at all. Though to some degree we can consider their mother’s influence here, it was also true that Caleb’s brother failed to address them directly about the issue and seemed to let their relationship lapse despite their previous camaraderie. Finally, in Camille’s narrative, avoidance was a part of her relationships with her sisters in different ways. Her middle sister has acknowledged her responsibility in abusing Camille but does not bring it up to avoid causing conflict. Her oldest sister, on the other hand, seemed avoidant of this reality—or perhaps incapable of acknowledging it. According to Camille, her oldest sister’s passivity in terms of her mental health made it impossible to connect with her deeply and consistently.   Within these themes of passivity, avoidance, and lost potential, there is a sense of loss and foreclosure. A lack of presence from the sibling can create a sense of alienation, where the possibility of resonance and mutual growth are lost.  Transformation  Trauma has been conceptualized as that which is unspeakable, that which totally overwhelms the capacity to cope. It can be a force of destruction and truncation of possibility, to        202  the point where one of the hallmarks of trauma is its repetition. However, in the face of a trauma like childhood abuse and neglect, transformation is possible. This overarching theme refers to the way in which possibilities beyond the given experiences of abuse and neglect are fostered in relation the sibling relationship. The following subthemes represent the varied ways that these transformative elements emerged across the narratives.  Support/Alliance, Resonance, Autonomy and Connection. Transformation, or its potential, materialized in narratives where life-affirming connection emerged within the sibling relationship or individual internal resources were used in the direction of differentiation and establishing healthy boundaries. For Lena, Camille, and Elizabeth, the sibling served as a crucial figure for growth in their narratives, providing a relational arena for recognition and positive identification, both crucial psychological processes (Mitchell, 2003; Vivona, 2010). In Lena’s case, her relationship with her sibling underwent a significant transformation once they were able to gain autonomy from their mother and form a collaborative narrative together. It is only in gaining some independence from the engulfment of one relationship that they could find themselves reflected more genuinely in one another. Lena named this process of coming to resonate with her sister as one of the most important parts of her healing process. We might interpret this as a movement towards a positive identification with her sister despite their mother’s attempts to divide them. The process of building a new mutual narrative with her sister echoes some of the literature on healing from trauma. First, we might consider her experience alongside Herman’s (1992) description of the phases of healing—specifically remembrance and mourning as well as reconnection. Lena and her sister were able to remember their history in a new, more fruitful way, and were able to not only reconnect with each other but also with the        203  larger world. Their horizons broadened as a result of this process, speaking to the power of the sibling to provide a relational holding space for the emotional and psychological survival of trauma. Additionally, their engagement in this process demonstrated how the sibling can help in the remaking of a fundamentally relational self after trauma (Brison, 1993). This was true for other participants as well, to varying degrees.  For Camille, building a relationship of mutual support with her middle sister Danielle had been important to facilitating her sense of connection to her. Though still uncomfortable with the idea of being fully supported by her, as evidenced by her discomfort with living with her after Camille’s divorce, Danielle had become the person closest to her in the family. This was in part due to her sister’s transformation over time, moving from being an abusive, harmful figure to slowly building connection and mutuality with Camille. Elizabeth and Caleb both named the sibling relationship as offering support and resonance in difficult times, especially in childhood. This was something that, for Caleb, helped keep their mental health in a better place and mediated some of the abuse. For Elizabeth, it was helpful to know that she wasn’t alone. In her narrative, she described holding on to hope that she and her brother would continue to grow in mutual understanding and support over time. She imagined that as he matured, he would hopefully shed some of the harmful ideas about gender and masculinity that he had absorbed from their father. Though neither Caleb nor Elizabeth received full recognition from their siblings, they still acknowledged the importance of the support they received from them. This shows that even where there is ambivalence, incongruence, or loss, the sibling can potentially still serve as an important, positive figure, and in some cases one of hope.         204   Mia was very clear throughout her narrative that she was disappointed in her brothers for not offering more support than they did. She did cite several examples where they provided some comfort for one another or attempted to work together to gain greater understanding of their situation. This reflected some of the more immediate protective capacity the sibling relationship has in the face of developmental trauma (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). However, Mia was ultimately left wanting more depth than they gave her, which was painful. She continued to learn and grow on her own, with understanding herself and her past as a vital process even if her brothers did not actively participate in it. In several of the narratives, transformation came not in the form of further meaningful connection with the sibling(s), but with firm boundaries in the form of reducing or ending support and contact. For Mark, Barry, and Alaina, this was the case. All three of them had taken a supporting role with siblings and eventually found themselves needing to reduce support, as in Barry’s case, or completely cut contact, as with Alaina and Mark with their older brother and sister respectively. Their journey had also been a more solitary one in the sense that they could not rely on their siblings to respect their boundaries, let alone offer meaningful support and mutuality. However, in establishing firmer boundaries and moving beyond the dynamics and demands of these relationships, they grew in closer connection to themselves. This can be connected back to the process of differentiation as contributing to a growing capacity to recognize one’s own emotions, needs, and sense of self as separate from those of others. This makes room for the individual to navigate personal boundaries in a way that honors them and is aligned with a more life affirming sense of self. Once again, we might think of their experiences as they relate to Herman’s (1992) understanding of the process of healing from trauma—       205  specifically, the necessity of establishing safety first. Herman (1992) illuminates how it is difficult to heal without first establishing safety because the survivor is continuously re-wounded and has no space to do the deep, vulnerable work needed for transformation. For survivors of developmental trauma, sometimes the greatest potential for transformation may lie in first exercising the agency necessary to end a relationship with a sibling caught in traumatic cycles of repetition. Differentiation from the sibling can be a transformative act. Part of the healing may involve grieving this relationship and its lost potential while embracing the possibilities that open in their absence.  Meaning Making  Cultural Influence, Responsibility, Divergent Paths, Breaking Cycles. Another issue that emerged consistently across the narratives was that of making sense or meaning out of what happened. This is particularly salient when considering the impact that trauma has on meaning and meaning making. There are questions that underlie this process: why did these things happen? Who is responsible for what happened, and to what degree? How is it that one sibling’s path is different from another’s? Most of the narratives also included some discussion of therapeutic process, and how that has shaped the way they understand their narrative now.  We are all already and always embedded in culture, and while the sibling is a universal figure, individual cultures and even the microculture within a family will have an impact on how the sibling relationship is shaped and understood. Gender and birth order tend to dictate certain expectations depending upon the culture you are in. In this study, emergent themes like responsibility, support, and inversion represent cultural values and their disruption, and even the        206  process of defining abuse has a cultural element to it. The fact that this study was comprised entirely of individuals in psychotherapy is also a cultural factor.  Gender and religious ideology were the most notable cultural factors in several narratives. Mia discussed her mother’s role in the family as a homemaker, and she described her as meek and traditional in terms of her submission to the dominance of her father and reliance on her brother for decision-making. This evokes some of the literature on the splitting of masculine and feminine between public and private realms, where the father is tied to the rational, independence, and freedom, and the feminine is tied to the private realm and a general lack of agency (Benjamin, 1988). Race was also relevant here in that the image evoked a stereotype about Asian women as submissive, rendering them nearly invisible (Yamada, 1981). Her brothers were also expected to take more abuse, as they could “handle” rougher treatment. She also discussed how in Asian culture, siblings are not encouraged to connect—they are encouraged to compete. This cultural element of competition and striving for perfection was also compounded when it came to their religious community and the possible stigma they would face if it came out that there was domestic violence in the home.  Several of the participants who identified as women shared how gender and religion intersected and shaped their experiences of abuse and differential treatment. Lena described how she was made to feel ashamed constantly for natural human urges, a common dynamic in religious trauma (Downie, 2022). Likewise, Alaina was told that she had “stolen” from her future husband, an idea undergirded by harmful religious ideas about purity—her brother, however, did not receive these same messages. She was also pushed into a caretaker role because she was a girl. Caleb, who was assigned female at birth, described how they were expected to cook and        207  clean because of their assumed gender identity, and a kind of “eldest daughter syndrome” ran through the way they were perceived and expected to act as part of the family. Their queerness was also labeled as evil to be cast out and something to be saved from. Elizabeth’s father used, and continues to use, her gender to control her, especially when it comes to dating, claiming that she needs to be protected.   Barry’s father and stepmother were staunchly religious and used this as a means of control. Mark also discussed how religion, masculinity, and race intersected to create a culture where child abuse and misogyny could “run rampant.” This evoked some of the literature on White maleness as a position of hegemonic privilege and power (Liu, 2017), along with the power and control associated with religious trauma (Downie, 2022). Likewise, Mark’s discussion of his father’s failure to embody hegemonic masculinity in comparison to his own achievement of it demonstrates some of the cultural ideas about masculinity as precarious—something that is never a given, but instead must be earned and consistently maintained by achieving certain cultural markers of it (Vandello et al., 2008).  Mark, Caleb, Lena, Barry, and Alaina all discussed how religion was taken up by their families in a way that promoted restriction, isolation, and shame. This influenced the sibling relationship and its trajectory to varying degrees. Similarly, the degree to which sexist ideas were passed down and adopted by siblings was an important factor for Elizabeth, Alaina, and Caleb. Race, gender, and religion were frequently named as intersectional issues important to their experience, interweaving and compounding the effects of the others in terms of harmful impact (Crenshaw, 1991). These cultural elements are crucially important in that they provide a backdrop of meanings and context for the narratives and the place the sibling takes in them. Each        208  of the participants in this study explored the ways that culture informed their understanding of what happened to them and their sibling as well as how it gave them something to resist or embrace.  Against this larger backdrop of culture, participants made sense of their stories in myriad ways. One of the most salient, consistent issues that arose was that of responsibility. In all cases, there was some discussion of parental influence on the situation, including how their parents’ choices contributed to the pain they experienced and how this related to sibling responsibility and personal responsibility. Mia discussed her sense of misdirected resentment at length, talking through her internal struggle to define responsibility. On the one hand, she expressed her deep disappointment that her brothers did not step into a more active role when they were kids—they should have stood up to defend their mother and to defend Mia. This pain was further exacerbated by the shallowness she described in their relationship as adults—there was no mutual support or depth, and Mia’s journey to understanding has been a solitary one. However, she wrestled with the reality that they were also children, and probably terrified, and her parents were at fault for not helping them cultivate deeper connections to one another. She named her father as the one truly responsible for the dynamics of the home, and yet still questioned why her brothers didn’t offer more help. She illuminated this further by describing how as children, it was easy to get mad at whoever triggered their father’s rage rather than their father himself. Yet for her, the question remained, where was their sense of wanting to support her now? She vacillated between empathy and resentment, demonstrating the difficulty of this internal conflict, and the pain of holding onto a desire for connection that has not been fulfilled.        209  Most of the participants discussed their understanding of what happened to them within a framework of cycles of violence, how their families were re-enacting an abusive template that had its origins in generations before them (Herman, 1992; Siegel, 2013). Mark began his story by mentioning that his father was sexually abused. Likewise, Elizabeth described how her father was abused by his mother, catalyzing his hatred for women. Lena and Camille both mentioned their mothers’ unaddressed traumas as an influence in their experiences, and Barry mentioned his siblings adopting the same “rubrics” that were given to them by their parents, perpetuating the violence committed against them. Similarly, Alaina discussed her brother’s behavior considering her parents and their influence. She questioned how much of her brother’s situation was nature versus nurture, and how different might things have been if he’d had the right tools. In discussing this, she said it made her angry at her parents. This is framed within a larger thematic context of parental passivity and avoidance of responsibility and Alaina’s anger seems to gesture towards a sense of lost potential, not just for herself but for her brother as well. Mark and Alaina also mentioned genetic affinity as a possible cause for their siblings taking on abusive tendencies. Several participants also discussed how their parents’ or siblings’ mental health diagnoses were contributors. Camille, for example, discussed her oldest sister and her schizophrenia diagnosis, and how it was frustrating because their relationship suffered due to a mental health issue rather than a “person” issue.  This seems to be a generally salient tension for many of the participants—how to hold empathy and compassion for the sibling alongside holding them accountable for their behavior. This seems to stir up difficult emotions in many cases—resentment that a sibling got more positive attention, disappointment that a sibling was not a more positive force, a sense of anger at        210  betrayal, and resignation or sadness in the face of a sibling’s limitations. In other cases, especially where the sibling relationship had potential for positive dynamics and a movement beyond the abusive patterns given by the family system, there was a sense of hope and validation. The narratives seem to take two positions in terms of understanding connections between the nature of the sibling relationship and the abusive context— “because of” and “in spite of.” Where there is a break down in the sibling relationship, meaningful links are typically made to abusive contexts and cycles of violence. In other words, “because of” the abuse, the relationship was negatively impacted. In other cases, the “in spite of” position implies that even in the face of abusive patterns and dynamics, the sibling relationship was able to not only survive, but grow stronger. For example, Camille, Lena, and Elizabeth, all share a sensibility in their stories that in spite of what they have gone through with the sibling, the relationship still has the capacity to be a site of hope, validation, and safety.   In several cases, there was also the issue of self-compassion along with holding oneself accountable, whether in relation to their sibling or more generally speaking. In describing some of his more violent behaviors in childhood and adolescence, Barry remarked how while he doesn’t excuse his behavior, he also understands it as emerging in an abusive context. Similarly, Elizabeth admitted to treating her brother poorly when they were little, something she was “not proud of” but also understood within the context of her father’s violence and manipulation. Camille struggled with this issue, and she discussed how for a long time she had blamed herself entirely for what happened. Though it was still challenging to recognize the ways that her mother and sisters held responsibility in the situation, she had also developed an understanding that        211  trauma is never an excuse to go on and abuse others, and if anything it “should make you more of an empathetic person. And be more of an advocate for other people.”  Almost all the narratives mentioned some form of traumatic repetition. As previously mentioned, Mia, Elizabeth, Lena, Natalie, and Mark all mentioned cycles of abuse repeating across generations. Several participants also mentioned finding themselves in abusive serious relationships, sometimes more than once, or a sibling being in an abusive relationship. Every participant also discussed the ways that the abuse—whether at the hands of a sibling or otherwise—affected their sense of self. Isolation, paranoia and distrust, people pleasing, denial of personal needs, exacerbation of insecurities, and a sense of being “messed up” or irrevocably altered in some way were all mentioned. This reflects much of the literature on complex trauma and its impact on sense of self (Herman, 1992).  For many, it was an uphill battle to redefine themselves within and beyond these damaging experiences, process what was lost, and create a new way of engaging the world. Participants varied in terms of where they were on this journey—some described still struggling with difficult interpersonal patterns, or struggling to relinquish old, damaging templates about their self-worth. However, in some cases the healing process played itself out right there in the interview. For example, two participants (Alaina and Lena) reversed elements of their speech, initially structuring a sentence in a way that placed blame on the victim (whether self or other) in a situation before reworking what they said to place responsibility on the perpetrator. In this way, they reshaped the narrative that was given them into something new. Others described how they were currently breaking cycles in therapy, with a sibling, or within their own families, fighting to banish traumatic repetition from their lives and build strong, meaningful connections. In Lena’s        212  narrative, there was a clear process of remembering that occurred between her and her sister. This validation seemed crucial, especially given the gaslighting and scapegoating that Lena endured. Their process reflects some of the literature on healing from trauma as a relational process of reconnection and narrative meaning making (Herman, 1992; Brison,1993). For several participants, the idea of breaking cycles of violence was an important part of how they understood themselves and their narrative. Many of the participants actively worked to break the cycles that they described throughout their stories by gaining deeper understanding of the abuse they experienced, developing self-awareness, making different choices in their relationships with their own children, and distancing themselves from harmful narratives about themselves and the world. The sibling relationship served as an arena in which these movements played out. For example, Lena and Elizabeth both described how they and their siblings helped each other to grow in awareness. In many cases, the sibling relationship was the first arena in which this cycle could be broken, and something new could emerge. For example, Camille and her sister moved from an abusive dynamic to a safe and supportive one, and several other participants mentioned times in childhood when they would go to their sibling for comfort and resonance in difficult moments. This marked the sibling relationship as a space where something different—something other than abuse—could be experienced.  Many participants also discussed the divergent paths that they and their siblings took and had different ways of explaining what factors contributed to each path. Many discussed therapy as an important aspect of their development, along with internal resources like wisdom and maturity. Others cited having more physical resources and access to education. This will be discussed more in-depth in the section on narrative congruence.         213  Sense of Self  Differential Treatment, Identification and Repetition, and Independence vs. Connection. A focused area of interest in this study is sense of self. Beyond sharing and elaborating on their narrative, each participant was also asked to share their understanding of themselves in terms of the role they played in the family, their sibling’s role, and any relevant impact their sibling had on them and their sense of themselves. The themes of identification, differentiation, and individuation were relevant for the participants in terms of building a sense of identity in relation to others (Vivona, 2010). Where there was favoritism there was strife, and the participants’ description of their sibling relationships mirrored many of the sibling subsystems named in family systems theory. These included the ally system, defensive system, estranged, enemy, and abusive systems (Williams et al., 2016). However, something that is less frequently discussed is the way these relationships change over time within these abusive or neglectful contexts. For example, moving from an abusive subsystem of allyship to estrangement as in Caleb’s case, or from an abusive to ally subsystem in Camille’s case with her middle sister. While there are myriad examples of possible ways to categorize the sibling subsystem, it seems essential to note that according to these interviews, these patterns of relating are not rigid. Sibling relationships that are affected by abuse can see a great deal of change over the course of a lifetime and are not entirely homogenous in their dynamics. Without exception, each participant mentioned a shift in their relationship with their sibling or their understanding of the sibling in general. In terms of positive change and deeper connection, strength in common ground, the shedding of projections, and mutual recognition emerged as key elements of change. For those sibling relationships that worsened or grew more distant in some way, recognition of        214  sibling limitations, lack of health and reciprocity in the relationship, a need for self-preservation, and outside influences were contributors. It is also notable that in some cases where the sibling relationship had a positive valence, it was possible for the participant to take on a different kind of role—for example, Lena could become a supportive presence, accepted for who she is rather than a scapegoat, or in Mark’s case, he could be a protector rather than just the throwaway child. The impact of differential treatment on sense of self became clear over the course of each narrative. For example, in Lena’s case, her mother’s criticism of her makeup, interests, and outspokenness set her firmly in the role of scapegoat, while her sister was praised and held close, becoming a “mom 2.0” and the golden child of the family. For others, differential treatment was shaped by religion, gender, or a combination of both, as in Alaina’s case, who was both shamed for her sexuality and put into a caretaker role.  As mentioned, others took on roles that clearly should have been filled by the adults in their lives but weren’t. Elizabeth, Mark, Mia, and Barry all stepped in as protectors. Alaina was put in the role of caretaker for her brothers, as was Caleb to a certain extent. For some, playing a protector or caretaking role was not an entirely negative experience—it contributed to a sense of purpose and agency. However, there is a darker side to playing these roles: Barry and Elizabeth both speak of sacrifice to the point of self-harm, while Mark and Mia were eventually deeply disappointed in their siblings’ inability to reciprocate a similar kind of care. This echoes some phenomena in the literature around these rigidly defined roles (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018). Across the narratives, differential treatment functioned to shape the roles that individuals took in their family systems and had an impact on their sense of self (Titelman, 1998; Vivona, 2010). We emerge as selves in a relational context, and where there is abuse, there is also a need for        215  emotional and physical survival. The roles taken in these situations reflect a navigation of those needs. However, later in life this can cause problems when it becomes rigid, as evidenced by Barry’s difficulty holding a job, and Mia’s struggle with depression and a sense of loneliness as a result of becoming so independent.  A pattern that emerged over the course of the narratives was a dual sense of self. For some, this was a matter of the identity or role they were expected to play in the family versus the one they claimed in opposition. In Alaina’s case, she was put in the role of caretaker, a surrogate mother to her brothers and a rescuer to her mother. However, this is a role that she relinquished after coming to recognize its impact in her life. She grew weary of denying her own needs for the sake of those who did not reciprocate. She also spoke of herself as a tenacious rebel, in stark contrast to the passivity and avoidance of her parents. Lena, who at some points had thought of herself as a “bad” kid, a troublemaker, and “crazy,” eventually came to see herself as worthy of acceptance and decidedly not crazy—she was the sibling who first questioned the abusive dynamics in the home.  In other cases, there seemed to be layers of identity, with vulnerabilities hidden beneath roles defined by favoritism or strength. Elizabeth, who was the mature, capable protector, also saw herself as ultimately contaminated by her upbringing and therefore the best choice to “take the blows,” pointing back to the low sense of self-worth she had named in the beginning of our interview. Mark, who was the “good” child, the steward and protector, also thought of himself as the “throwaway child,” less valued and less visible than his other siblings. Camille, envisioned as the “golden child” by her siblings, has harbored a sense of herself as a burden due to the years of abuse and neglect she experienced, and also resented the way that she was expected to succeed        216  without as much support as her sisters. This multiplicity of self in relation to the sibling reflects the ways that different positive and negative messages about the self are internalized, rejected, or transformed in the face of developmental trauma. In addition, these parts of the self can cohabitate in a dynamic, meaningful way, forged and lived out within a web of relationships. Over the course of the narratives, we can see the way that sense of self changes. More rigid self-structures, for example the “scapegoat” or “protector,” can shift and grow beyond the confines of the sense of self initially constructed or demanded within the abusive family system. McAdams (1993) discussion of imagoes is relevant here, especially his reference to the development of a larger and more meaningfully patterned sense of self beyond those self-templates that we are provided with. Many of these narratives demonstrate a process of self-discovery and self-recognition that can be bolstered by the sibling. In cases where there was a lack of support from the sibling or family in general, this possibility seemed to remain open if there was sufficient support for the process of individuation. We might consider Alaina’s narrative as providing an example of this. In Alaina’s case, we can see the impact of a strong move towards differentiation in her analogy of a pendulum of the self that swings to the extreme “opposite end of the spectrum” in relation to her brother and the rest of her family. However, part of her journey seems to have been acknowledging that this is, in part, still a self that is rigidly defined by her developmental context, even in its opposition. One of the tasks of self-discovery she describes is in finding a “middle road” that she can more flexibly engage in her understanding of self, others, and world. In several narratives, the process of individuation—here referring to a process of self-realization—involves sloughing off projections from parents (Anderson & Sabatelli, 2007). This        217  was crucial to finding a richer, flexible sense of self that made room for new ways of engaging with self and other, and the sibling operated either as facilitator or hinderance to this process. For example, in Lena’s case, her sister helped to validate a more positive sense of self. Likewise, it seems that her sister was able to release herself from the “golden child” trope by rebelling against their mother’s wishes, and Lena was there to offer support when their mother reacted negatively. This points to the importance of individuation in the development of a sense of self, especially in situations where there is abuse with elements of idealization and denigration, like the golden child/scapegoat paradigm. The golden child is put on a pedestal, but also subject to a great deal of control, and letting go of the seeming benefits of holding that privileged place can be difficult—especially when the consequences are so severe. Siblings can function as supporters of this individuation process, this movement towards a richer sense of self outside of the rigid demands of the family system. Before their relationship deteriorated, Mark’s brother gave him a sense of importance and purpose as a steward and protector rather than a throwaway child. It was also clear from his narrative that where siblings identify with an abusive parent in some way—either in becoming abusive themselves or adopting invalidating ideologies—the sibling relationship suffers. Mark’s sister and her strong identification with their father serves as one example, as well as Alaina’s brother, incapable of taking responsibility for the harm he caused his stepdaughters, and Barry’s sister who followed a similar route to their mother. In all these cases, strong boundaries were placed to prevent further exposure to repetition. The themes of independence and connection also appeared to be relevant to sense of self across these narratives. Lena, Alaina, Mia, Camille, and Barry all discuss, to varying degrees, the importance of their own capacity for independence in surviving developmental trauma and        218  building a sense of self outside the templates that were given to them. However, it was also clear that connection is equally important. Mia, for example, longed for deeper connection with her brothers, and Alaina discussed how important it was that she found healthy connections that could support her outside of her family of origin. In Lena’s case, it seemed that in order for her to connect to her sister they both had to develop some independence from their mother. McAdams (1993) discusses autonomy and connection as the two most powerful driving forces in human motivation, and therefore, stories. These competing needs might be considered as forceful imperatives in any context, but in developmental trauma these strivings are often thwarted by continuous relational wounds. The sibling, ever ambivalent, can help to mitigate the hinderance of these pursuits or create further difficulty.   Cross Narrative Congruence and Incongruence  Another area of interest for this study is narrative congruence and incongruence, and how a sibling holds the narrative of their shared history alongside them. What is the impact on the sibling relationship as well as sense of self where there is shared understanding or difference? Across the narratives, there was variation in how participants understood the way their sibling held the narrative alongside them, as well as different layers or categories of understanding. Though siblings share an environment, “their internal perspectives on the world shift with their individual experiences, and their sense of cohabitating a shared environment diminishes” (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018, p. 85). We see this emerge in the myriad ways that participants described their siblings as holding, or not holding, their history alongside them.          219  Points of possible congruence or incongruence that emerged from these narratives included definitions of what happened to them as abuse, understandings of the causes of that abuse and who holds responsibility, and the roles held in the family system as well as sense of identity.  We might consider this idea of narrative congruence alongside the ideas presented by Hindle & Sherwin-White (2018) in a study of sibling subsystem structures. In the bonded or concordant familiar subtype, most clearly demonstrated in Lena’s narrative, there is a shared understanding of family and larger world. For the discordant and familiar subtype, we might think of Elizabeth’s narrative, where she and her brother share a sense of familiarity between them but also see their father and the world somewhat differently. As is true of this subtype in the literature, their sibling relationship was largely defined by differential treatment. The narratives given by Alaina and Mark most closely resemble the discordant unfamiliar subtype, where there is no shared concept of self or world and conflict dominates. There is considerable overlap between these subsystem descriptions and how the degree of narrative congruence shapes the sibling relationship across the narratives in this study. This gestures towards how crucial narrative alignment is in determining the dynamics of the sibling relationship over the course of the lifespan. However, the narratives in this study also challenge the notion that any sibling subsystem can be fully reduced to a rigid category. In most instances, the nature of the subsystem changed—most strikingly true for Barry, Elizabeth, Camille, Caleb, and Lena, in different ways. In Elizabeth’s case, there is a continued potential for change that holds the space open for mutual connection and growth in the future. In Alaina’s narrative, there were two major shifts in the nature of the subsystem she shared with her brother. Subsystem categories, while useful in some ways, fail to capture the fluidity of sibling relationships and the nuances of how        220  narratives change and grow over time, especially when they are mutually held. For several participants who did not have a sibling relationship that could provide a relational holding environment for that narrative process, therapy and other significant relational figures became essential to the process of redefining their sense of personal narrative, world, and self.  Lena reported that she and her sister have reached a level of deep mutual understanding sparked by their own individual processing as well as joint conversation. The positive impact of this was clear—a high level of narrative congruence contributed to their deepened connection and mutual support. For most of the other narratives, however, there was some element of incongruence expressed. While it seems that the greater the narrative congruence, the more opportunity there is for connection, it is also true that mixed congruence does not totally foreclose it. There was often still room for meaningful connection based on what was shared. For some, there was doubt about whether or not their sibling would even label what happened as abuse—this was most clearly shown in Caleb’s narrative, whose brother also strongly identified with his abusive father. In Elizabeth’s narrative, her brother saw most of their father’s behavior as abuse, but his internalized ideas about gender partially shaped his understanding of their father’s control of Elizabeth as “protection.” In other cases, there was a differential understanding of responsibility, for example in Mark’s narrative, his sister was both blind to her own abusive dynamics and saw herself solely as a victim. She also assigned more blame to their mother than Mark did. In both these cases, there was a common thread—the sibling’s sense of responsibility and blame seem to shift away from the parent that they most identify with. Mark discussed how he felt he still had some work to do in this area. Though seeing his father’s responsibility in the situation was straightforward, he described having more difficulty        221  confronting and integrating his experience of his mother’s abandonment. Mia’s brothers thought of their father’s abuse as an issue of mental health or disconnection from God, while Mia thought of it as a matter of choice. Several participants mentioned that there was some disagreement about role—who was the favorite, for example, versus who was the troublemaker. In some cases, less is known about how the sibling held the narrative alongside the participant. Alaina’s brother, for example, would shut down, and Mia described how their discussions were limited and largely confined to childhood attempts to understand their father. In cases where there was much narrative incongruence, participants did not express doubt in their own position, but rather loss, disappointment, or resignation regarding their sibling and the potential of a shared reality.  Participants had varied ways of understanding how their siblings came to adopt such divergent understandings of their narratives. Sometimes, it was an issue of context or resources—divorce leading to different dynamics in different households, or more education and a drive for knowledge. In many cases, it was an issue of identifying with the abusive parent and/or adopting harmful ideologies that continued the cycle of violence. The templates of the past were accepted, and the cycle of violence continued to be enacted. For Barry, this was particularly important. While it was clear that he and the sister he was closest to understood that what was happening was wrong, they had different ways of managing it: “same math, different conclusion.” While he chose to go against the grain of this way of being, his sisters and brothers seemed to act it out, perpetuating the cycle of abuse. The narrative, for them, became something repeated rather than transformed, demonstrating a different kind of narrative incongruence. These narratives are not just an issue of memory or recollecting events. They are lived out in the present, to varying degrees, in either a spirit of resistance or repetition (Herman, 1992).         222   For some, seeing their sibling disagree represented a kind of break from reality, or a form of indoctrination into something false or harmful. We might think in these terms, of being able to offer categorical validation for a right or wrong way to understand events like the ones the participants described. However, there is another layer we might investigate. Namely, that the narrative that emerges is a question, in part, of meaning making, and how that process of meaning making either perpetuates suffering or offers an alternative. Through meaning making there is an opportunity for the alleviation of suffering, and part of this is the story we tell ourselves about what happened and who we are. And perhaps part of the healing process, part of making meaning that is life-affirming, is looking for alternatives to what is given in the abusive or neglectful household. The parents are assumed, for the most part, to be caught up in these dynamics, perpetuating them. The sibling, where possible, can be a lateral other that offers a mirror, a potential point of resonance: “Do you see what I see?” Those questions, that small challenge to the status quo or inquiry into whether or not it is the only possibility, can grow into a robust flame when it is relationally held. The creation of an alternative in the direction of something more life affirming can ultimately be a powerful force in the face of these extreme situations. To borrow Lena’s words, the sibling offers a chance to “move beyond the narratives we are given,” and create a new experience of self and world.  Cross-Narrative Analysis of Form Origin Story, Parents, Context Each narrative was read for its coherence in terms of structure, development, and movement towards an objective, the thematic drive of the plot, as well as dynamics like regression, progression, steady movement, and turning points. The stories were also loosely        223  categorized based on mythic form: romance, comedy, tragedy, and irony. Across the narratives, a common structure emerged in terms of narrative phases. All participants began with the context of their family of origin, followed by a discussion of the dynamics between them, their siblings, and their parents. In all the narratives, there was shift, whether a distinct event that served as a turning point or a more gradual shift of perspective that affected the course of the sibling relationship. Finally, participants discussed an element of their current context.   In beginning with a description of their family of origin, each participant gestured towards the crucial nature of the context that they were in with their sibling. This aligns with the literature in family systems theory that individual relationships within a family are part of, and therefore affected by, the larger system (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018; Titelman, 1998). Indeed, this assumption is embedded within the very aims of this study. In some cases, participants discussed how their grandparents were abusive towards their parents, or that one or more of their parents were abused in some way in childhood, grounding the story in a foundation of generational patterns of abuse. Many also immediately mentioned cultural issues like religion and gender as deeply influential aspects of their family of origin.  Typically, the narratives progressed linearly, describing childhood and adolescence into adulthood, with occasional connections made to previous stages or tangential references. This part of the narrative structure varied a great deal in terms of its content—dynamics between siblings and parents were affected by the splitting and blending of families, sexual abuse or predatory behavior by individuals outside the family, deaths of family members, abusive relationships, and other factors. Each narrative also reached a point of transition—in some cases, this was a very clear turning point in the form of an event. For example, when Lena’s sister        224  started dating someone their mother did not approve of, or when Mark’s sister betrayed his trust by telling their mother about him reaching out for help with his alcohol consumption, or his brother’s attack. In some narratives, several issues arrived at once, like Caleb’s father gaining full custody and their mother telling their brother that they hated him, both of which contributed to a dramatic shift in their relationship with their brother. In other narratives, there was not a singular event that served as a turning point, but a general shift in the orientation of the sibling relationship over time, like Barry’s recognition that he could not support his siblings in the same way as before.  The final stage of the narratives consisted of a taking stock of where the sibling relationship was at that point, or a comment about mental health, or a sense of where the future might lead. For Elizabeth and Mark there was mention of the future. Elizabeth explored what she might pursue as an individual as well as her hopes for her relationship with her brother, and Mark’s described a need to focus on himself alongside his hopes of possibly mending some of his relationships with his family in the future. Elizabeth’s question about whether she will “stay with her abuser” and continue living with her father seems to add an open-endedness to her narrative. There is also the question of whether and when her brother will come to understand and resonate more with her understanding of their situation. Others discussed the progress they have made in their mental health, including specific therapies that were working for them, or themes they were tackling with their therapist.  In all cases, the general trajectory of the narrative was in some way interconnected with the trajectory of the sibling relationship. In some cases, where there was enough health, support, and capacity for individuation, there was a general sense of life and wellbeing improving as the        225  sibling relationship overcame challenges and grew stronger. For Lena, for example, there was a clear positive relationship between the closeness of the sibling relationship and general life and wellbeing. In other cases, the sibling relationship itself posed a challenge to the participant’s wellbeing as part of a larger abusive pattern, and boundaries or complete closure of the sibling relationship facilitated a progression for the participant. This was true in Alaina’s case, as well as for Mark and his sister, and Barry in the sense that he put up firm boundaries in favor of self-preservation. For Caleb, while they generally move towards safety in their narrative, the loss of the sibling relationship is a painful weight at the end of the story. Similarly, Mia’s narrative saw progression in terms of her mental health, but her disappointment in doing it without her brothers seems to dampen the progression. In Camille’s narrative, she moved towards greater structure and safety, and one sibling relationship reflects that development. With her other sister, however, she had to establish firm boundaries and essentially end communication.  The patterns presented in the narratives mirror literature that suggests that the sibling can compound the effects of abuse or act as a valuable positive force even where there might be some ambivalence or narrative incongruence (Hindle & Sherwin-White, 2018 Orange, 2014). While this is not a claim that the sibling relationship is the sole factor that defines the trajectory of narrative, it can have an impact. Each narrative contains a great deal of complexity in terms of points of progression, regression, and steady advancement, and they are propelled by varied themes. Each theme, however, can be considered to have a relational element, affected by connection or division. For example, moving from isolation to connection, processing and healing alone, or managing relational chaos and seeking structure.         226  The interplay between the individual and the narrative structure of the story ultimately shaped the meaning drawn from the events of their narrative, defining the overall form. In all the narratives, the trajectory reflected a central thematic conflict that in some way related to connection versus disconnection with the sibling. McAdams (2019) stresses that the structure of the story also has an impact on the author: “the author has become the story, and the author will continue to understand the self in these narrative terms, making important life decisions with an eye toward their significance in the story” (p. 8). We can see this in the structure of the participants’ narratives in several ways, most notably perhaps in examples where there is overlap in theme with very different narrative forms. For example, for Alaina, Barry, and Mark, the narrative form was largely fueled by their process of differentiation from their sibling and the family at large, and they included issues like self-preservation and betrayal as narrative propellants. It is notable that despite these narratives having strong thematic connections, their narrative forms were different, with varying implications for the general tone and meaning of the story. For Alaina, for example, the end of her relationship with her brother seemed to signify a moment where she connected deeply with a sense of self that was more in touch with her own needs and priorities. This contributed to her narrative having a romantic structure. This allowed her to move forward without holding onto a caretaker role that she felt was unbearable. Her narrative identity transforms from something less livable (emotional support daughter) to something more livable (the tenacious rebel), and she finds herself in a generative place at the end of her narrative. We might ask how much of Alaina’s sense of self and how she makes meaning of the turning point with her brother are influenced by the fact that she seems to be carried within this romantic narrative structure. For Barry, though his narrative ultimately seems        227  to take a broadly progressive shape with romantic elements, his continued ambivalence about his responsibility to his siblings gives his story a dominant tragic undertone. His sense of himself as a protector seems to conflict with his narrative arc towards self-preservation. He also described how he still struggled to hold a job in part because of his tendency to aggressively stand against authority, perhaps continuing to live out elements of a tragic narrative structure where he remains a fallen hero. Lena and Elizabeth shared a narrative arc that both aimed towards identification with the sibling and differentiation from the family. While we might assume that these both might take on a comedic or romantic structure, Elizabeth’s narrative seems to be mixed in the sense that while she has gained greater connection to her brother, it remains a question whether he will ever fully recognize her stance on their mutual experience. Additionally, after describing some seemingly hopeful aspects of her sense of self as being capable and knowledgeable about how to manage the impact of their father’s abuse, she oriented towards a sense of self founded on destructive self-sacrifice. This has a strong tragic element to it. It calls into question not only how firmly her narrative can remain in a progressive arc, but also how the grip of these tragic narrative elements of form constrict her understanding of herself and her possibilities alongside her brother. How might the tragic elements of form in her story co-create this sense of self as ultimately corrupted and meant for sacrifice? We might wonder about how the presence of these seemingly opposed narrative elements of form—the comedic push towards more wisdom and meaningful connection with her brother and the tragic sense of ultimate corrosion of the self—are perhaps connected to why her story feels somewhat unresolved at the end, with more questions than answers. There is a question about how her        228  narrative form may change over time, not only in how her choices will shape the narrative but how her sense of herself as belonging to a more tragic story arc may shape her choices.  Camille, Mia, and Caleb all had structures that were unique. Mia’s narrative was relatively stable in terms of her sense of disconnection from her brothers, and she blends both ironic and romantic elements within her story structure. While Caleb identified that they are in a much safer situation living with their father, the loss of their relationship with their brother creates a sense of the narrative as primarily an irony. In both of these cases, there is a bittersweetness to the narrative process and a sense of unresolved grief embedded in—and perhaps perpetuated by—the ironic elements of structure. Camille had two sisters for whom the trajectories contrasted dramatically, despite sharing the central theme of creating safety out of chaos. This created a blend of comedic and ironic elements that she found herself contending with, even expressing ambivalence about her story and its meaning in the member check. In these cases as well, it is useful to consider the ways that the individual psyche and narrative form are co-constructive in terms of meaning, all embedded within a relational field. While the individual shapes the general form of the narrative, these narrative forms also seem to carry the individual. This gestures towards McAdams’ work on narrative and the idea that meaning making is not simply an individual process, but that it is something that occurs in relation to these mythic forms (McAdams, 1993). In addition, the sibling seems to serve as a key figure in the narrative structure’s development and perpetuation. They help create the material from which these narrative structures are built, gesturing towards the relational nature of narrative structuring.          229  Reflexivity Throughout the process of analysis, there were several points where my own experience made significant contact with the material I was working with. First, I was raised Jehovah’s Witness until about twelve years old. Back then, I took great comfort in the idea that if I followed the religious doctrine faithfully, I would maintain some safety despite the turmoil my family experienced. As I grew older, however, I began to notice the deep negative impact of the Jehovah’s Witness ideology and how it was taken up within my family. Much of what participants shared resonated with me. However, I also saw that religious faith and practice was not entirely negative for all the participants—for some, it was something they had taken up differently outside their family of origin, or faith-based communities were seen as potential resources of support. It was important for me to recognize this alternative perspective and acknowledge my own bias and expectations. I tried to include material directly from participants that reflected this.  Secondly, in several cases as I was listening to the narratives I found myself expecting there to be more consistent “cutting off” of family members—likely because my own family has been splintered by trauma. In cases where there was continued connection in spite of ambivalence, I tried to take care to honor the varying factors at play in their individual experience.  Finally, when I first began this study, I expected (and perhaps hoped) to see one of the dynamics I share with my sister: one sibling holding traumatic memories that the other has lost. My sister remembers many of our more painful experiences as a family, as well as the abuse she experienced individually. I, on the other hand, have very few of these memories—some of this is        230  typical infantile amnesia, some of it is dissociation. This has had an impact on me, as well as how I see my sister and our shared history. Though my exact experience was not mirrored in any of the narratives, Lena’s came close. She shared that she and her sister created a mutual narrative by not only resonating with common memories but filling in gaps for each other as well. She said that her sister could “add to things” that she had forgotten “or vice versa.” This was not the only similarity between my story and Lena’s, and so I had to be especially aware of the ways that my history could influence my analysis.                        231  Chapter 5: Closing Remarks, Challenges, and Further Questions The sibling relationship is a developmental crucible that demands passage through essential milestones in the movement towards a rich and healthy psychological life and connection to others out in the larger world. Themes like love and hate, the capacity for friendship, empathy, and consideration for others, and the balance between recognition, identification, and differentiation are all relevant to the sibling domain. The sibling is arguably the primary lateral other, a connection that serves as the initial foray into navigating a world of others who are both “like me” and “different from me.” As a figure in psychological life, the sibling serves as scaffolding for future lateral others—cousins, partners, friends, and enemies (Mitchell, 2013). Growing up in a family where abuse and neglect are present seems to add complexity and amplify the poignancy of these matters. This study offers some preliminary understanding of the intersection between trauma, narrative, and the sibling, and raises further questions. First, these narratives illustrate how the sibling’s position as an ambivalent figure plays a role in the experience, survival, and later understanding of developmental trauma. In constructing a story about their trauma history, the participants showed how the sibling emerges as a lateral other that can facilitate growth and transformation or contribute to traumatic repetition. Many times, these possibilities dwell together in the same moment, and the nature of the dynamic can also vacillate between these potentialities over time.  One of the central issues in post-traumatic sequelae is foreclosure of possibility. One’s sense of world, others, and self can become rigid, and there is a ceaseless return of the past trauma. For Stolorow (2011), this reflects a traumatic temporality in which everyday linearity is disrupted. Freud’s repetition compulsion is also relevant here. For the participants in this study,        232  the sibling relationship was embedded in a traumatizing context, marked by inversion of that which is life affirming in the form of destructive chaos and neglect. The sibling relationship was universally affected by these dynamics in the home. A primary issue that arose across the narratives was whether and how the sibling relationship would reflect these abusive dynamics or resist them. In all the narratives, there were elements of compensation, contamination, and spillover. In some cases, participants described how the trajectory of the sibling relationship(s) ultimately broke down and resulted in alienation. In others, the narratives ended with deeper connection and solidarity. Several maintained connections that seemed to contain a kind of tenuousness, perhaps a question about how things may unfold in the future. This was often the case whether that relationship was felt to be healing or traumatizing. As adults relaying these personal stories, they spoke to how they have wrestled with making meaning out of what happened to them and organizing their understanding of responsibility and sense of self over time. The way this process was mutually held or rejected by the sibling had a deep impact on the felt sense of possibilities within that relationship.  The narratives in this study can also be further explored in relation to the fundamentals of human being: our embeddedness in context, language, and social connection, as well as our embodied being, temporality, fundamental capacity for transcendence, and the social construction of our realities (Brooke, 2016). It is in circling around these fundamentals of human being that the participants began to construct a narrative as well as a sense of meaning in their experiences. Each participant came to this study with a narrative that was shaped by a horizon of meaning defined by diverse contextual factors. Most of the participants mentioned that there was an existing historicity of trauma and abuse in the family line, which created a traumatic template        233  that was passed down to them. Participants described how cultural factors like rigid ideas about gender and religion, for example, were taken up such that a family culture of shame, fear, and isolation was created. Stigma about domestic violence, poverty, race, mental and physical health, and other issues also had a hand in shaping experience. The sibling can be understood as a lateral other thrust into the same context who is also positioned uniquely depending upon factors like gender, birth order, temperament, and parental influence.  One of the questions posed by this study was how siblings in these given conditions arrive at congruent or incongruent understandings of shared experience. This has an impact on outcomes not just for the sibling relationship, but for how individuals live in relation to their past—repeating it or resisting it, for example. At the heart of this, there seems to be a question of agency. How much agency do we have, in the midst of such traumatic conditions, to choose a different story for ourselves? It is useful, perhaps, to tie this back to the human capacity for transcendence. While we are embedded in context, we are also capable of “using a degree of freedom in how we interpret our situations and make choices accordingly” (Brooke, 2016, p. 26). Though we always live in relation to our pasts, we also have a capacity to live towards possible futures and imagine something beyond our given conditions. This involves a process of meaning making. The recognition, for example, that one’s experiences of developmental trauma emerge out of a context that is a painful exception rather than an acceptable norm opens the possibility of something different and more life affirming. Where this transcendent capacity is realized and a possibility other than the given conditions emerges, agentic choices can then be made that align with a movement towards this more livable possibility. Wrestling with the theme of responsibility in trauma can encourage a more conscious understanding of how an individual        234  both relates to the past and yet has a choice in their present. For the participants in this study, this was a focal issue not only in terms of their personal exploration, but also how they understood their sibling’s path in light of the family system’s impact on them. There is also a clear link between relational connection that allows for safe exploration of these issues and the pursuit of new possibilities outside traumatic repetition. This suggests that our capacity for transcendence has a deeply relational component to it. Laubscher (personal communication, January 9, 2024) has noted that there is a link between transcendence and narrative, in that if we consider storying as an act of agency through the process of authoring, then storying is an act of transcendence. He goes on to describe how we might consider storying as distinct from narrative if narrative is simply a process of relaying a tale. It is essential to still acknowledge, however, that this process is not simply about the will of the agentic author, but is always already relational (L. Laubscher, personal communication, January 9, 2024). The content is shaped by the others within the story, and the act of telling the story to an other, present or not, is relational in nature and a form of address. This connects to some of what participants mentioned in terms of their therapeutic journeys and how their story has changed over time, and how they have moved to deliberately change the narratives they were given. It is notable also that the process of meaning making within narrative is not merely an act of personal will or agency. It is also couched within given structural forms—irony, comedy, tragedy, etc. Thus, the process of meaning making is borne from the dialectic between the individual and the structural as well as the relational. Likewise, we can consider the way that larger cultural narratives serve to deeply influence narrative at the level of the individual.        235  It is important to acknowledge that transcendence is not something that is absolute or binary in the sense that the wounds of trauma can be fully healed and left behind. Rather, it seems to be more of an issue of how those wounds are understood, the meaning that is made of them, and how that dictates the way that they are carried and related to. This also connects to one’s sense of temporality—how much does the past infringe upon the present? How much room is there to live towards possible futures where there is safety and connection alongside a traumatic past? Part of what this study attends to is the way that narrative, temporality, transcendence, and the sibling are intertwined as part of the human experience of developmental trauma. The sibling is uniquely positioned as a figure that illuminates the struggle of traumatic repetition and makes space for potential exploration of whether the family story is objective truth or shaped by choice. This exploration also holds space for the question of whether the family’s narrative can be resisted, and how. This is also a process that evolves over time, shifting alongside the trajectory of the sibling relationship and as sense of self develops in relation to the sibling.  Embodiment also emerges in these narratives in interesting ways. For example, Mark’s size and masculine physical presence had a deep impact on his experience and sense of his own safety as well as his capacity to protect. This also gathered meaning for him around his father’s relationship to his own masculinity and his sister’s resentment of him. Elizabeth discussed her struggle with anorexia, which may reflect not only of how her interiority reflects the exterior conditions of power and control in her relationship with her father, but a crystallization of the larger culture she and her family are both embedded in (Bordo, 1985). She also frames herself, her body, as meant to “take the blows” for her brother, similar to Barry’s position as the one who        236  protected his siblings by taking their beatings. These represent not only physical experiences but identity positions, roles taken on and internalized as part of the sense of self.  It also points to some of the main conflicts they still seem to struggle with in adulthood. Both claimed to hold a protector role for the lateral others of their adult lives, often at great expense to themselves. This once again ties back into themes of traumatic temporality and repetition of the past in the present. Further research may more fully explore these connections. In examining sense of self in relation to the sibling as part of the trauma narrative, one can see connections to the social nature of our existence and that we are situated, or embedded, “in a social world in which we find ourselves and out of which we become constituted as the personas we are” (Brooke, 2016, p. 22). Broadly speaking, the sibling relationship is an arena in which the individual can ask the question, “who can I be in relation to the lateral other?” The sibling leaves their mark on identity within the framework of the family and the various needs and demands that are present within the family structure. The narratives shared in this study show how identity becomes fraught in the presence of abuse and neglect. To be a protector or a caretaker of a sibling comes at an unbearable cost in these contexts. It is almost as if the question of “who can I be” changes to “who must I be in order to survive and to help my sibling survive?” For all the participants, part of their narrative included a confrontation with the ways that their sense of self was shaped and limited by their early experiences with their siblings. These roles, though initially forged for the sake of survival, often became destructive later in life and were universally still reckoned with in an ongoing way at the time of the interview. There is an enduring question raised by these narratives about how the roles played by siblings in these traumatized family systems potentially shape the ways that they disrupt traumatic repetition or        237  perpetuate it. A shift in sense of self may emerge as there is an acknowledgment that they are no longer served by what previously helped them survive in the family system. The emerging narration of character requires more flexibility, more access to a sense of self or a story structure in which they can more freely engage with the world around them. As a result, the character of the sibling may also evolve—the brother who was once to be protected and aided at all costs becomes an individual who must be accountable for themselves, or the sister who was previously the distant golden child becomes someone deeply relatable. How much these evolving narrative structures and characters can be co-constructed and recognized has deeply felt implications for the sibling relationship. More work can be done in this area as well, perhaps particularly as it relates to therapy. Many participants described the loneliness and isolation they felt when it came to their sibling. In some cases, this emerged as a result of the cultivated opposition between them, or their sibling’s inaction or incongruent understanding of their shared experience. Even as trauma leads to dissociation and concealment, it also demands to be witnessed. Stolorow (2011) discusses “kinship-in-finitude” as deep connection with another that forms alongside, and perhaps despite, the presence of trauma as a possibility. It is something we long for, especially in the face of trauma and its capacity to cultivate estrangement. It makes sense that the sibling could provide a potentially powerful connection in which to cultivate this kinship, given the element of shared experience. This can be tied back to the concept of recognition. However, even when this was not possible for participants with their siblings, many found a way to process and share their experience and receive recognition from lateral others outside the family. This often came in the form of romantic partners who were also survivors of trauma.         238   This study also aimed to explore how narrative form helps foster greater understanding of narrative as a meaning making process, particularly where the sibling is considered. The content of each of these narratives informed their structure and form. In each narrative, there was a central conflict with the sibling that drove the story forward, creating conditions for turning points as well as narrative progression, regression, and stability in the narrative’s shape. This also informed the narrative form in terms of its structure as a romance, comedy, tragedy, or irony. It is notable that many of the narratives did not contain a singular mythic structure—most contained elements of more than one. For example, a generally progressive comedy could also contain elements of tragedy. This gestures toward the complexity and ongoing development of these personal narratives, as well as the ways that trauma narratives resist straight forward categorization. This may be especially true where an ambivalent figure like the sibling is in focus. These narratives are not complete wholes with distinct ends or absolute resolutions of conflict. They are merely snapshots, a narrative given at a certain moment in time, with continued potential for further integration and shifting meaning. It has been suggested that life is not a singular coherent narrative, but rather “a process of constant narrative reinterpretation” (Meretoja, 2017, p. 44). Many participants mentioned that their understanding of their history and themselves has changed dramatically over the years leading up to the interview. The potentialities and possibilities of their future trajectories remain open, as does the way they relate to the past. It may also be the case that part of healing from trauma and understanding the self and sibling in a new light involves a shifting of narrative form. An individual may not only shape their narrative form but be shaped by it in return, and individual choices might be guided by the        239  demands of a given structural trajectory. This suggests that attention to narrative form and how it shifts can be helpful in our movement towards deeper understanding of how trauma heals. This generative process seems to benefit from dialogue with lateral others like the sibling, a process that was relevant for several participants. Thus, we can consider how the sibling functions as co-conspirator or disrupter in the crystallization of narrative forms that reiterate foreclosure of possibility.   Another issue that warrants further consideration is the way that the unconscious plays a part in what is revealed and concealed by the narrative. In this study, I primarily adopted a hermeneutic of faith, which assumes that participants are expressing their subjective experience as candidly as possible (Josselson, 2004). However, there were moments across the narratives where unconscious material seemed to bubble up, demanding recognition of potential conflict or different meanings below the surface of what was shared. While in some cases I made note of these moments, future exploration of this material might maintain closer attunement to meanings that are not as readily available. Adjacent to this is the issue of what can be called truth claims in my writing. More specifically, as a researcher, my writing and thinking about these narratives is developed out of a stance that honors the truth in their stories. Partially, this is an ethical stance attuned to the varying ways that narratives of trauma are silenced or delegitimized both by those who perpetuate trauma as well as the culture at large. In addition, it is useful to consider the ways that our individual realities are always constructed within our subjectivity. “Truth” can never be devoid of this, and our realities reflect the meanings we have made of our experiences. It seems important to also acknowledge that there are many who challenge the idea that experience is something raw, initially pure and separate from the subjectivity of perspective. Instead, narrative        240  is “part of our experience, not something that comes in retrospect to give order and make sense” (Davis, 2023, p 39).   According to Davis (2023), “the ethical demand of testimonial texts rests on their appeal to truth” (p. 36). Yet if we acknowledge that all understanding is mediated and interpretative in nature, must we fall victim to what he calls “post truth cynicism?” (Davis, 2023, p. 38). This illuminates a tension in the literature around these two seemingly opposing positions—a hermeneutic of faith and a hermeneutic of suspicion. However, others argue that these positions may be reciprocal parts of the process of interpretation. Davis (2023) outlines the possibility that a reasonable faith, the faith of the hermeneut, sees interpretation as a process that makes use of both suspicion and trust as necessary constraints on each other. Using Gadamer, he goes on to describe how dialogue functions “as the medium through which this tension between trust and suspicion can be explored, where different meanings and responses can be weighed against one another” (Davis, 2023, p. 51). From this we can gather that truth is approached through dialogue and exchange. We might think about how we move toward truth in the narrative method by virtue of cross narrative analysis, which gives space for the narratives to dialogue with one another. The themes that emerge across the narratives point to a kind of truth that emerges in how these individual stories resonate.   Davis also references how even if our stories about ourselves are false, they “nevertheless make us the people that we are” (Davis, 2023, p. 38). He also suggests that in spite of potential lies or self-delusion, we may still occasionally be able to move in the direction of truth. This has hopeful implications for therapy, though Davis (2023) encourages us to be cautious about being too hopeful just as much as he deters a complete abandonment of hope. This study did not seek        241  to determine whether the participants’ narratives were true or false in a typical sense, but rather sought to explore them as meaning making processes with special attunement to the place of the sibling. Several participants demonstrated their recognition of how their subjectivity shaped their truth by offering examples of the ways their sibling might offer a different perspective. While for the participant, it might have been true that their sibling was the “golden child” who could do no wrong, their sibling might see themselves as getting in trouble all the time, and vice versa. We might also consider how the parents of any given participant would build a different narrative, perhaps resistant to the labeling of their behavior as “abusive” or “passive.”   Understanding narratives as practices of interpretation that are always already embedded in social and historical contexts “allows us to see how it is an inherent feature of every narrative that it can be told in different ways, and how our condition as storytelling animals is one of always being in the middle of a dialogue and struggle of interpretations” (Meretoja, 2017, p. 85). Considering this in relation to participant narratives, we can see how the sibling is a lateral other who has lived in the same conditions, has lived through the same events in the family, and invariably lives and tells their story from their unique position. For all the participants, this “struggle of interpretations” in some way involved their sibling as a point of reference, contrast, and interlocution. Future research might include narrative studies of trauma using sibling dyads or triads. This could offer an exciting opportunity for cross-narrative comparisons that might further illuminate the ways that family roles and individual experiences shape narrative understandings of trauma and the sibling relationship. It might also open an exploration of how differing narrative forms (romance, tragedy, etc.) in sibling dyads influences various outcomes.         242    There are several other aspects of this study that could be further developed or that warrant future pursuit. First, not all participants were reached for member checks. While I did my best to maintain fidelity to participant contributions, it is possible that some of my findings are further from their experience than it would be had they been able to participate in a member check interview. In addition to this, had I been able to connect with them it would have further enriched an understanding of the impact of participation in the research. Future studies of this topic should strive for greater diversity in terms of individuals interviewed. Most participants were White, cis-gender, female, identified as Christian or Catholic, and did not report having a disability. Striving for greater diversity would help to enrich understanding of how these and other aspects of identity intersect and affect the experience of trauma in relation to the sibling. This could also create opportunity for more cross-cultural comparison.  Other future research might include exploration of moments of dramatic change in sibling relationships, or, in narrative terms, turning points. Examples might include decisions to end a sibling relationship or the decision to reconnect after separation. This may also attend to some of the same issues of agency and living towards a potential future that emerged in this study. Future research may also include an examination of the sibling relationship as a liminal one that stretches between both the private realm of the home and the public realm of the outside world. This may illuminate some dynamics around how trauma that occurs at home is carried between siblings in the public sphere at school, for example, and what informs choices to engage vertical and lateral others outside the home in discussion of the trauma. Finally, another potential route of exploration might be and examination of the sibling as a symbolic figure that serves to structure        243  or inform relationships with other lateral others, including friends, romantic partners, and enemies in adulthood.  This study also raises some questions or challenges for current theory in the field that attends to the sibling relationship. For example, the general flux described by participants in terms of the nature of their relationship challenges some of the literature in family systems theory that attempt to define sibling relationships as falling into defined categorical subsystems (estranged, enemy, allied, etc.). This was true also for narrative form in the sense that most of these narratives resisted a singular categorization.  We may consider several clinical implications of this research. It may speak to other adjacent clinical phenomena, including experiences of growing up with incarcerated siblings, the death of a sibling, or situations where a sibling is affected by serious life-threatening illness. All these topics could potentially benefit from future research using a lens that is attentive to narrative and trauma. For clinical practice, it is clear that the importance of the sibling should not be underestimated when it comes to working with developmental trauma. This study encourages clinical attunement to individual understandings of sibling contributions to experience, including their roles and how they are constructed within the abusive family system. Another clinically relevant theme is that of responsibility and how it is complexified by the balance between contextual influence and personal agency. This study also encourage sensitivity to understanding the sibling as ambivalent figure—one capable of facilitating transformation, repetition, or both, and that these are not necessarily stagnant positions. Part of understanding the sibling’s place in personal narrative may include grieving the lost potentials of that relationship and exploring other emotions related to the evolution of the sibling relationship over time. More generally        244  speaking, I hope that this study encourages clinicians to maintain an awareness of the complexity and nuance of the sibling relationship and how it can contribute to sense of self. Engaging patients in the process of building a narrative and examining the sibling’s impact on it can be a worthy therapeutic pursuit, especially towards the recognition and resistance of repetition and the integration of unconscious forces that drive it. There is also the potentially fruitful exploration in therapy of how the individual might drive the structure of their narrative, or vice-versa, and how the relational field (including the sibling) creates conditions for a more livable narrative or one that is painfully in its repetition. Within therapeutic space, it is possible to build a narrative that is connected to one’s personal agency and one’s capacity for transcendence. This can allow for the creation of more livable meanings that help foster a relationship to the past that broadens the horizon of possibility in the future. My hope is that this research is fortifying not only for researchers and clinicians endeavoring to understand and work with trauma, but for survivors as well. As Alaina said, “when you zoom out, it’s powerful… ultimately working on things can lead to change.”                245  References Adler, A. (2012). Position in family constellation influences lifestyle. In Carlson, J., & Maniacci, M. (Eds.). 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Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 59(5), 971–980. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.59.5.971 Sipiora, M. (2008). Myth and plot: Hillman and Ricoeur on narrative. In S. Marlan (Ed.). Archetypal Psychologies (pp. 133-151). Spring Publishers. Skuse D. H. (1989). ABC of child abuse. Emotional abuse and neglect. BMJ (Clinical research ed.), 298(6689), 1692–1694. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmj.298.6689.1692 Snyder, J., Bank, L., & Burraston, B. (2005). The consequences of antisocial behavior in older male siblings for younger brother and sisters. Journal of Family Psychology, 19(1), 643–653. https://doi.org/10.1037/0893-3200.19.4.643 Steele, H., & Steele, M. (2005). Understanding and resolving emotional conflict: The London Parent-Child Project. In K. E. Grossmann, K. Grossmann, & E. Waters        253  (Eds.), Attachment from infancy to adulthood: The major longitudinal studies (pp. 137–164). Guilford Publications. Steelman, L. C., Powell, B., Werum, R., & Carter, S. (2002). Reconsidering the effects of sibling configuration: Recent advances and challenges. Annual Review of Sociology, 28, 243-269. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.soc.28.111301.093304 Stolorow, R. (2011). World, affectivity, trauma: Heidegger and post-Cartesian psychoanalysis. Routledge. Stewart-Tufescu, A., & Piotrowski, C. C. (2013). Siblings exposed to intimate partner violence: Family predictors of child trauma symptoms. International Journal of Child and Adolescent Health, 6(3), 281–295. Titelman, P. (1998). Overview of the Bowen Theoretical-Therapeutic System. In Titelman, P. (Ed.). Clinical applications of Bowen family systems theory (pp 7-48). Haworth.  Vandello, J. A., Bosson, J. K., Cohen, D., Burnaford, R. M., & Weaver, J. R. (2008). Precarious manhood. Journal of personality and social psychology, 95(6), 1325–1339. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0012453 Vivona, J. M. (2010). Siblings, transference, and the lateral dimension of psychic life. Psychoanalytic Psychology, 27(1), 8–26. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0018637 Weinfield, N. S., Sroufe, L. A., Egeland, B., & Carlson, E. (2008). Individual differences in infant-caregiver attachment: Conceptual and empirical aspects of security. In J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver (Eds.). Handbook of attachment: Theory, research and clinical applications (pp. 78–101). The Guilford Press.        254  Wertz, F. J., Charmaz, K., McMullen, L. M., Josselson, R., Anderson, R., McSpadden, E. (2011). Five ways of doing qualitative analysis: Phenomenological psychology, grounded theory, discourse analysis, narrative research, and intuitive inquiry. The Guilford Press.  Whiteman, S. D., McHale, S. M., & Soli, A. (2011). Theoretical perspectives on sibling relationships. Journal of Family Theory & Review, 3(2), 124–139. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1756-2589.2011.00087.x Williams, J. S., Riggs, S. A., & Kaminski, P. L. (2016). A typology of childhood sibling subsystems that may emerge in abusive family systems. The Family Journal, 24(4), 378–384. https://doi.org/10.1177/1066480716663182 Witte, S., Fegert, J. M., & Walper, S. (2020). Sibling relationship pattern in the context of abuse and neglect: Results from a sample of adult siblings. Child Abuse & Neglect, 106. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.chiabu.2020.104528 Wojciak, A. S., McWey, L. M., & Helfrich, C. M. (2013). Sibling relationships and internalizing symptoms of youth in foster care. Children and Youth Services Review, 35(7), 1071–1077. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.childyouth.2013.04.021 Wong, T. M. L., Branje, S. J. T., VanderValk, I. E., Hawk, S. T., & Meeus, W. H. J. (2010). The role of siblings in identity development in adolescence and emerging adulthood. Journal of Adolescence, 33(5), 673–682. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.adolescence.2009.11.003 Yamada, M. (1983). Invisibility is an unnatural disaster: Reflections of an Asian American woman. In Moraga, C., & Anzaldua, G. E. (Eds.). This bridge called my back (pp. 35-40). Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press.         255  Appendix A  Qualtrics Survey  Are you 18 years of age or older?  Yes   No Are you a survivor of abuse or neglect by a primary caretaker? This includes physical abuse, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, and neglect.  Yes   No Did you have at least one sibling in the home during the period when abuse/neglect were present?  Yes   No Are you actively attending therapy?  Yes   No Do you have at least one source of reliable emotional support such as a family member or friend?  Yes   No What is your first name (or preferred alias), phone number, and email? By filling out this information, you are giving consent for contact and confirming it is safe to leave a message. You will be called to set up an interview and sent additional information via email.                                 256  Appendix B  Reddit Post  Participants Needed: Study on Adult Survivors of Childhood Abuse and/or Neglect        Are you a survivor of childhood abuse or neglect? Do you have a sibling? Want to tell your story and help shape clinical understandings of trauma? You may be eligible to participate in a research study on how siblings shape personal histories of trauma. Participants will receive a $25 Visa gift card.  About the Study: Siblings are important figures in life and can have a real impact on the way we experience ourselves and our stories. This is true also where there has been trauma, yet little has been studied in this area. This study aims to gain a greater understanding of the place siblings take in personal narratives of trauma where there was abuse or neglect by a caregiver. It also aims to look at the impact of sibling agreement or disagreement about their shared childhood experiences.  Interview Process After completing the initial eligibility survey you will be contacted by the researcher to set up a time for an interview. You can also call or email the contacts listed. Interviews take place either at the Duquesne University Psychology Clinic (DUPC) or over zoom (password protected) after full eligibility and confidentiality are discussed. The interview process should take 1-1.5 hours, with a shorter follow up interview of 30-45 minutes.  To be eligible, you must: Be 18 years of age or older Be a survivor of abuse/neglect by a primary caretaker Have had at least one sibling living in the home during the period of abuse Be actively attending therapy and have emotional support Not be at high risk for suicide or psychosis  Interviews by zoom or in person in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Please follow this link for the screening survey:        257   https://duq.az1.qualtrics.com/jfe/form/SV_8HRpH1rQERLbeVE  Or contact the researcher: brownem1@duq.edu (818) 522-2676  This project is sponsored by Duquesne University.                                            258  Appendix C  Stamped Flyer            259  Appendix D  Stamped Pamphlet                       260                           261  Appendix E  Sample Participant Email  Dear Name,  My name is Michelle Browne, I am reaching out because you filled out a survey requesting research participants. Thank you for your interest in this study on siblings and the experience of trauma in childhood. If you are still interested, please let me know what state you live in and we can set a time to meet either in person or zoom, depending on your location and preference. Initially, we will go over some eligibility factors to determine whether the study is a good fit for you. If it is indeed a good fit, we will then begin the interview process, which typically takes between 1-1.5 hours. I have the following times available next week (EST), please choose 2-3 that work for you:  (List of times)   Warmly,  Michelle                       262  Appendix F Pre-Interview Screening Orientation to the Project [ANY INITIAL QUESTIONS/FEELINGS ABOUT INTERVIEW FROM PARTICIPANT] I am interested in learning more about how people think and feel about their sibling as a part of their story when it comes to childhood experiences of abuse and neglect by parental figures. This includes not only how they fit into the story and the roles siblings play, but also how siblings carry that history together, whether they talk about their experiences, and if there is agreement or disagreement about those experiences.  I expect that the interview will take between 1-1.5 hours with a 30-45 minute follow up session once analysis is done, to get feedback and thoughts from you. Is that okay with you?  This material can sometimes be difficult to talk about. It is important to me that we go at your pace, and if there are things you don’t want to talk about, you don’t have to. Participation in the study is completely voluntary. Does that sound okay to you?  Eligibility I’d like to ask you a few questions about eligibility.  1. Are you 18 or older? 2. If doing the interview in person, are you fully vaccinated against COVID-19? 3. Did you experience physical, sexual, or emotional abuse as a child at the hands of a parental figure in the household? Physical abuse includes use of physical force like slapping, punching, kicking, etc. whether as punishment or otherwise. Sexual abuse includes any kind of sexual contact, and emotional abuse includes yelling, threats, coercion, insults, or other derogatory and damaging language.  4. Were you neglected as a child? Neglect includes depriving a child of their basic needs, such as adequate supervision, health care, clothing, housing, and physical, emotional, social, educational, and safety needs.  5. Did you have a sibling living in the home at the time of the abuse?  Exclusion 1. Administer suicide risk assessment (C-SSRS) 2. Administer psychosis screening (PQ 16) Inclusion 1. Are you actively in therapy currently? 2. The material we will be discussing can be difficult for some people to talk about. Do you have a support system, like a friend or family member, that you can trust to talk with you or sit with you if you find yourself feeling emotionally distressed or upset after the interview?  Mandated Reporting  I am a mandated reporter, which means that if you were to tell me something during the interview that gave me reason to believe that you were planning on hurting yourself or another person, I would have to report it. Likewise, if you tell me something that leads me to believe that        263  a specific child or elder is possibly in danger of being abused or hurt by another person, I would have to report it. There are lots of ways this might come up. If, for example, you tell me that there is someone who has abused you as a child who has frequent contact with a child or children now, I would have to report that.   If this were to occur, I would first tell you that what you’ve said is needs to be reported, and ask if you would like to report together or if you would like me to report independently. I will then ask a series of questions to gather the necessary information before making the report. How does all of this sound to you? Do you have any questions?  [REVIEW & SIGN CONSENT FORM]                           264  Appendix G              265  Appendix H PQ-16           266                                                                 Appendix I Consent Form DUQUESNE UNIVERSITY 600 FORBES AVENUE   ♦   PITTSBURGH, PA 15282  CONSENT TO PARTICIPATE IN A RESEARCH STUDY TITLE: Lateral Others in the Trauma Narrative: The Place of the Sibling in Histories of Abuse and Neglect INVESTIGATOR: Michelle Browne, M.A. Department of Psychology McAnulty College & Graduate School of Liberal Arts (818) 522-2676 brownem1@duq.edu ADVISOR:  Lori E. Koelsch, Ph.D. Associate Professor & Director of Undergraduate Programs Department of Psychology McAnulty College & Graduate School of Liberal Arts (412) 396-1614 koelschl@duq.edu          267  SOURCE OF SUPPORT: This study is being conducted as partial fulfillment of the requirements for the doctoral degree in clinical psychology at Duquesne University. STUDY OVERVIEW: The purpose of this study is to explore the place of the sibling in histories where there has been abuse and/or neglect, how siblings affect your sense of yourself in these contexts, and the impact of sibling agreement or disagreement about traumatic experiences. I am hoping for a total of 4-8 participants.  PURPOSE: You are being asked to participate in a research project that is investigating the place of the sibling in histories where there has been abuse and/or neglect, how siblings affect your sense of yourself in these contexts, and the impact of sibling agreement or disagreement about traumatic experiences. In order to qualify for participation, you must: • Be 18 years of age or older  • Be a survivor of abuse or neglect by a primary caretaker • Have at least one sibling who was living in the home during the period when abuse/neglect were present • Be actively attending therapy • Have at least one reliable source of emotional support such as a family member or friend  • Be fully vaccinated, unless you are participating in the study through Zoom        268  • Not be experiencing active psychosis • Not have current suicidal intent with a plan and means PARTICIPANT PROCEDURES: If you provide your consent to participate, you will be asked to allow the primary investigator (Michelle Browne) to interview you in person at the Duquesne University Psychology Clinic, or over zoom. The interviews will be audio recorded (or audio/video recorded in the case of zoom) with your permission and transcribed. Interviews will last anywhere between 1-2 hours. You will also be asked to participate in a follow up session that will last anywhere from 30-45 minutes, where you will be presented with preliminary analyses of the interview material and asked for your feedback. In total, participation will require somewhere between 1.5-2.5 hours of your time.  RISKS AND BENEFITS:  Participating in this project affords an opportunity to contribute to a deepening understanding of these issues for researchers and clinicians who work with survivors of developmental trauma. It is also an opportunity for self-expression and exploration of your personal narrative with an interested party. As with any discussion of traumatic material, there is the risk of experiencing distress. Should this occur, the researcher will stop to provide a space for grounding. The interview will continue only with your indication to do so. Due to the nature of the project, it won’t be possible to offer ongoing support should discussing the traumatic material become overwhelming after the end of the interview session. You will be encouraged to make use of existing support systems and given resources should you need them. You will also be provided with a list of emergency crisis lines should you need them.        269  Please note that the researcher is a mandated reporter. This means that if you disclose ongoing child abuse, elder abuse, or intent to harm yourself or another person, the researcher is required to report that information to the appropriate party. Please see the attached page on mandated reporting for more details. COMPENSATION: Participants will receive a $25 Visa gift card. Should you park in the Duquesne University parking lot, your parking will be validated.  CONFIDENTIALITY: The researcher hopes to publish the findings of this study and may also write future articles and give presentations based on this research. If you agree to be interviewed, what you say may become part of those presentations and publications. Your real name will never be used, and key identifying details will be changed to protect your privacy. Your participation in this study, and any identifiable personal information you provide, will be kept confidential to every extent possible. All written materials and consent forms will be kept in a locked file. Audio and audio-visual files, as well as transcripts, will be kept on a secure jump drive which will also be kept in a locked file. Names and other identifying data will not be included in notes, transcripts, or published material. You will be given an alias of your choosing, or one can be chosen for you. Audio files and written materials will be destroyed after the dissertation defense. RIGHT TO WITHDRAW: You are under no obligation to start or continue this study.  You can withdraw at any time without penalty or consequence by advising the primary investigator of your wish to withdraw in        270  person or by phone or email (brownem1@duq.edu). Consequently, any data already collected will be destroyed at your request, or kept with your permission for use in data analysis. Participants who withdraw get to keep the gift card regardless. SUMMARY OF RESULTS: A summary of the results of this study will be provided to you at no cost.  You may request this summary by contacting me and requesting it.  The information provided to you will not be your individual responses, but rather a summary of what was discovered during the study as a whole.  FUTURE USE OF DATA:  Any information that can identity you will be edited to remove identifiers. This data may be used in future publications and presentations, or future related studies.  COVID-19 CONSIDERATIONS I understand that the researcher(s) running this study have put in place the following guidelines to address concerns related to COVID-19: • All participants, as well as the researcher, will be fully vaccinated to participate in person.  • Participants and interviewers will wear face masks. If you do not have a face mask, one will be provided for you.  • Sanitizer will be made available to you.  • Only two people will be present during an interview at any given time. The interview will occur such that the maximum space possible is present between both parties. • The room will be sanitized before and after the interview process.         271  VOLUNTARY CONSENT:  I have read this informed consent form and understand what is being requested of me. I also understand that my participation is voluntary and that I am free to withdraw at any time, for any reason without any consequences. Based on this, I certify I am willing to participate in this research project. I understand that if I have any questions about my participation in this study, I may contact Michelle Browne at (818) 522-2676 or by email at brownem1@duq.edu. If I have any questions regarding my rights and protections as a subject in this study, I can contact Dr. David Delmonico, Chair of the Duquesne University Institutional Review Board for the Protection of Human Subjects at 412.396.1886 or at irb@duq.edu.    ___________________________________     __________________ Participant’s Signature       Date   ___________________________________     __________________ Researcher’s Signature       Date            272  Mandated Reporting The interviewer is a mandated reporter, which means that in situations where there is reasonable cause to believe that you have the intention of hurting yourself or another person, or if you disclose ongoing or possible child or elder abuse, it must be reported. For the purposes of this project, mandated reporting laws around child abuse are particularly relevant. The following is adapted from the Pennsylvania Mandatory Reporting Laws:  The term “child abuse” shall mean intentionally, knowingly or recklessly doing any of the following:  (1)  Causing bodily injury to a child through any recent act or failure to act.  (2)  Fabricating, feigning or intentionally exaggerating or inducing a medical symptom or disease which results in a potentially harmful medical evaluation or treatment to the child through any recent act.  (3)  Causing or substantially contributing to serious mental injury to a child through any act or failure to act or a series of such acts or failures to act.  (4)  Causing sexual abuse or exploitation of a child through any act or failure to act.  (5)  Creating a reasonable likelihood of bodily injury to a child through any recent act or failure to act.  (6)  Creating a likelihood of sexual abuse or exploitation of a child through any recent act or failure to act. (7)  Causing serious physical neglect of a child. (8)  Engaging in any of the following recent acts:           (i) Kicking, biting, throwing, burning, stabbing or cutting a child in a manner that        273  endangers the child.          (ii) Unreasonably restraining or confining a child, based on consideration of the method, location or the duration of the restraint or confinement.          (iii) Forcefully shaking a child under one year of age.          (iv) Forcefully slapping or otherwise striking a child under one year of age.          (v) Interfering with the breathing of a child.          (vi) Causing a child to be present at a location while a violation of 18 Pa.C.S. § 7508.2 (relating to operation of methamphetamine laboratory) is occurring, provided that the violation is being investigated by law enforcement.         (vii) Leaving a child unsupervised with an individual, other than the child's parent, who the actor knows or reasonably should have known:                     (A) Is required to register as a Tier II or Tier III sexual offender under 42 Pa.C.S. Ch. 97 Subch. H (relating to registration of sexual offenders),8 where the victim of   the sexual offense was under 18 years of age when the crime was committed.                     (B) Has been determined to be a sexually violent predator under 42 Pa.C.S. § 9799.24 (relating to assessments) or any of its predecessors.                     (C) Has been determined to be a sexually violent delinquent child as defined in 42 Pa.C.S. § 9799.12 (relating to definitions).  (9)  Causing the death of the child through any act or failure to act. Should a report be necessary, the interviewer will immediately make a report, which will contain the following information, if known:        274       (1)       The names and addresses of the child, the child's parents and any other person responsible for the child's welfare.      (2)       Where the suspected abuse occurred.      (3)       The age and sex of each subject of the report.      (4)       The nature and extent of the suspected child abuse, including any evidence of prior abuse to the child or any sibling of the child.      (5)       The name and relationship of each individual responsible for causing the suspected abuse and any evidence of prior abuse by each individual.      (6)       Family composition.      (7)       The source of the report.      (8)        The name, telephone number and e-mail address of the person making the report.      (9)       The actions taken by the person making the report, including those actions taken under section 6314 (relating to photographs, medical tests and X-rays of child subject to report), 6315 (relating to taking child into protective custody), 6316 (relating to admission to private and public hospitals) or 6317 (relating to mandatory reporting and postmortem investigation of deaths).     (10)    Any other information required by Federal law or regulation.     (11)    Any other information that the department requires by regulation.            275  Appendix J Semi-Structured Interview Guide I’d like to start by asking for some basic information. Is it okay if I record from here on out?  Date:  Pseudonym (of your choosing):  Age:  Gender identity:  Sexual orientation:  Racial identity:  Number of siblings in the household at the time of the abuse: Let’s start by getting a general sense of your personal history, particularly your experiences of abuse.  Can you please tell me about that, starting from what you first remember about childhood and going up until now?  Possible follow up questions: How did your sibling have an impact on those experiences?  How do you see your sibling’s role in the family versus your own, then and now? Do you think these experiences had a different impact on you versus your sibling? How? Do you think that your sibling shaped who you are in any way? How? Are there parts of your experiences that are influenced by culture? How? Next, I’d like to focus on what things are like between you and your sibling(s) in adulthood. Do you and your sibling discuss, or have you discussed, your experiences of abuse/neglect? If so, what are those conversations like? If not, what do you make of that?  Do you think that you and your sibling(s) remember what happened in the same way, or differently? (their sense of what happened to them, their sense of self, the sibling relationship, etc.).   Possible follow up questions: Does them having the same/a different perspective change or affect anything for you? How has your relationship with your sibling had an impact on your sense of who you are?  How do see your childhood relationship with your sibling versus your adult relationship with them?        276  What is it like for you now as an adult, having this shared history with your sibling(s)? Does culture play a part in your experience now as an adult? Please describe any other thoughts and feelings you have about your story and how your sibling has a part in it. As we finish up, I want to make sure we’ve covered everything you feel is relevant   Is there something important that we haven’t had the chance to discuss yet?  Is there anything you’d like to tell me before we finish up for today?  [WRAPPING UP] Thank you so much for your time. I really appreciate you speaking with me today. Will you be comfortable if I follow up with you about the project? I would like to get your feedback on how it takes shape.

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