I hate the notion that because someone is family you have to be nice, or, at the very least, cordial.
I had to block my father’s number because he frequently gets drunk and/or high and texts to berate me as a slut living off of my parents’ money, which is ironic, seeing as how it took my mother taking him to court to finagle the thousands of dollars he owed in back child support, which he still didn’t pay in full. I remember sitting on the front lawn of our house after my parents divorced when it was his weekend for hours and he never came because he was “busy” at work (translation: getting belligerent). Even when I finally came out to him, which was excruciating enough, all he said was, “Yeah, I’ve heard things…”
I’ve legitimately tried to be nice to him over the years out of pity, but since I’ve omitted him from my life, I’ve found that my existence is exponentially better.