The healing process.

I'm sat in the comfort of my lounge in London, away from Somerset, and still I cannot get over the issues that happened a few weekends ago. Instead of feeling content in the presence of our nearest and dearest, I felt as if I was in the middle, the facilitator, the mediator and that wasn't a great feeling. It isn't a great feeling.

And what's worse is that we are arguing about something so ridiculous. Something that happened over five years ago, yet we're still at an impasse where one side of the family have moved on, and the other are stuck unable to find a path forward.

One event has continued to divide my family along multiple lines over the years – when my mum and dad announced they were to separate.

I remember the phone call as I walked along the banks of the River Usk with friends. An emotional pair, they told me together that they were going to separate and I remember crying. At first I thought it was sadness, but it quickly turned into relief. Here were two amazing, formidable people who have been huge influences on my life, finally realising how destructive trying to stay together was for them.

I thought no less of them – quite the opposite. I was proud of them for realising what I had personally thought for a number of years previously.

But this is only one side of the story. From as young as I can remember, I've dreamed of leaving my sleepy hometown, and with this distance comes a different perspective. My brother and sister remained at home with Dad, whilst Mum moved in with a friend.

When Mum bought her house once the divorce had gone through, my sister asked to move in as a gesture to help with the bills. My mum accepted, but rather than be the positive step forward in their relationship, it seemed like they held each other in contempt and soon the arrangement failed. My brother – always, for as long as I can remember, being politically neutral in family arguments – remained at home with our dad.

This, you'll understand is a way over-simplified view and I will never be able to understand the nuance from anyone else's perspective.

But what I perceive is a shift to the present day. One has moved on and indulged in a new life. One is seeking unity between everyone, sick of arguing. One is yearning for a relationship that hasn't existed for at least twenty years, or even longer. One is standing up for another over everything else. And one is sat away from it all looking in.

The pressure that this tedious story has put on us all is ridiculous. It challenges relationships due to perceived allegiances, and tries to force us to chose sides.

And so on the last weekend in May, we went to Dad's for a barbecue to celebrate mine and my bother's birthday. It was the day after only he and I attended our Mum's wedding where she married the woman she loves. It was here in the back garden, where tensions rose, and once again the story of my parents' separation divided us.

We find ourselves stuck then, at a point where we cannot leave our personal gripes behind. Too much history has happened and too many arguments have been fought.

This is what makes me upset, not that our family has divides because that's just the way families are. But that I cannot even contemplate the healing process starting for the foreseeable future. It seems like our expectations of each other are too high, so that rather than accepting each of our pitfalls and weaknesses, we seem to hold onto them as a stick to beat each other with. 

So as the mediator, it falls on my shoulders to attempt to steer this family back together. Where do I even start, and at what cost, and ultimately will it be worth any effort on my part?