Family
Family. It’s an interesting concept really, if you think about it. A bunch of people tied together through blood and genes. Sometimes I think of it in those terms, but it must be more than that.
I arrived today at my Nana’s (Dad’s mom) knowing that I could wear short sleeves, though my scars are a bright and dark red. I arrived knowing I could raise any subject and it was okay- things are out in the open. I could ask her questions knowing she would give me answers that she thought were true. When I’m a guest, I always like to instantly help with the dishes and cooking and setting the table- all of that. Each time I rose to get out of my seat, she made me sit back down. Told me I was her guest. She let me bring my dog.
This is my family. My Nana asked me all kinds of questions about what I went through. An open conversation about mental illness and the whole therapy process- never in my mothers life would that happen. My aunt asked me questions tonight- she really wanted to understand. Partly because one son has cerebral palsy and other disorders. But- how great to just be accepted.
I have spent the past two days with people that look like me, act like me and love me. I can’t put into words what this weekend is going and already means to me. I never imagined this would be the effect. I went here searching for my mothers family, but what I am quickly learning is that I am finding myself through my fathers family as well.
I spent so much of my life under a perfection microscope and then living with my life as a secret. There were so many things I could or could not do because of what someone might say or think. Here…all I have to do is be myself to have their love. They love me just because I exist and I am family. I don’t feel out of place here. I think I found my place.
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