If you have a cousin like Danny, don't wait for someone else to draw the line. You can love your family and still say stay away from me . You can forgive someone's past without offering up your future peace.
And if you're an aunt, an uncle, a parent, a grandparent—please. Stop calling it enthusiasm. Start calling it what it is. my cousin the creep
So I'm saying it now. Danny isn't just awkward or lonely or socially clueless. He's a creep. And the rest of the family pretending otherwise doesn't protect me—it protects him. If you have a cousin like Danny, don't
The grown-ups called it "enthusiasm." My mom said he was lonely. My dad said he'd grow out of it. And if you're an aunt, an uncle, a
When we were kids, "creepy" wasn't a word I would have used. Danny was just weird—the kind of weird that made other aunts whisper and uncles exchange glances over holiday dinners. He was two years older than me, and at every family gathering, he'd find a reason to stand too close. Not touching. Just... hovering. Like he was waiting for something.
At first, I thought it was awkwardness. Danny was the kid who laughed a beat too late at jokes, who stared at your mouth when you spoke, who saved used tissues in his pockets "just in case." But as we got older, the word creep started fitting like a too-small coat.