I see four distinct questions here:
• How do I love my family when I dislike them immensely?
• I do not want to attend this function. Actually, it would be ok if I never saw most of these people again. So, why do I feel so fucking guilty?
• Will it ever go away?
• How do I let go?
I think they can have distinct answers. Sure, they’re bound up together, but not inextricably.
• How do I love my family when I dislike them immensely?
It’s okay to dislike your family, even if you know you love them. There are lots of unpleasant and despicable people in the world, and all of them are or have been related to somebody.
It’s also okay to be angry with them, and that’s different from either disliking or loving/hating. Of course you know this; I’m just spelling it out.
The thing is, nursing anger and cherishing insult is a kind of self-replenishing poison in you. It’s a corrosive poison.
An old friend of mine and her older sister were abused by their mother when they were children. My friend grew up to join love cults meant to save the world through mind control. Her sister, she said, was eaten up by bitterness and took it out on her own children. Both of them were victims at the outset, but perpetuating victimhood as adults was up to them. Because they did such different things, though, we can at least see that they did have choices.
If family members have denied you the love and acceptance you wanted from them, you can’t make them give it to you. All you can do is stop wanting it.
What’s not clear in your details is which question your subject-line query is asking:
– How is it that I can love and dislike them at the same time? (asking for an explanation)
– How do I sustain love (because I want to love them) through anger and dislike? (requesting guidance for inner behavior)
– How do I show love to my family when I am also feeling dislike for them? (requesting guidance for outward action)
Without knowing which one is on your mind, I’m leaving that part alone.
• I do not want to attend this function. Actually, it would be ok if I never saw most of these people again. So, why do I feel so fucking guilty?
I don’t see you asking whether you should go, must go, are free not to go. I don’t see a request for advice there. Your statement about it is clear. The question I see is: why the feeling of guilt?
Family ties are strong, even when we don’t want them to be. It’s pretty hard to see who we are in a void free of all references to family, background, and culture. They help shape who we are. And maintaining those ties is bred into most of us. You feel guilty because that’s a natural response to knowingly going against custom, training, conditioning, expectation, and obligation. You are guilty of that, if that’s the accusation.
But that does not mean it’s wrong. Feeling guilty does not mean you are wrong. It just means you’ve got conflicting emotions mixed up in your decision. Coping with those is your job; satisfying all those expectations and customs isn’t.
• Will it ever go away?
Maybe not, but it will diminish. The longer you keep feeding it, the longer it will take. If you’re ambivalent, you’ll keep getting dragged back in.
It’s important to realize that all of that is going on inside you. It may or may not have some external reality, but the part that hurts is inside. Luckily, that means it’s in your court and not under somebody else’s control.
Guilt buttons can take a hell of a long time to disconnect thoroughly, but it can be done.
It’s also possible to remain aloof without severing all connections. You can establish your distance and change their expectations so they stop pressuring you. My uncle did that at a relatively young age, and the family eventually stopped assuming that he would join in all the religion-based events that the rest of them supported. He shows up for extreme events such as funerals, but otherwise he stays apart. A long time ago they all simply started thinking of him as exempt from the traditional obligations.
My generation of the family has removed itself from most of those limiting bonds, and that’s just the way it is.
• How do I let go?
Now we’re in the territory of things you can control. Detachment is very difficult, and it takes practice, but you can do it. It starts with reminding yourself, as many times a day (or a minute) as necessary, that you can’t control other people. If they’re not right in front of you all the time, it’s a lot easier than if they’re under your roof. You have to let them be what they are just as much as you want them to let you be what you are. Don’t pin your happiness on what somebody else does, and don’t make yourself miserable by stewing about things that have happened in the past or that haven’t happened yet. Take care of your own business, right here, right now.
Every major wisdom tradition teaches this same message. If one of those philosophies works for you, use the tools it gives you. People who use them faithfully seem to find that they help.
If I were in your place, here’s what I’d do: I would let people who ask know that I’m unable to attend. Then I would send a nice arrangement of flowers to the event, to stand in for my presence, with a card that says something like “Sorry I can’t be with you on this special day, but you’re in my thoughts. Love, TF.”