I've been thinking a lot about family in the past couple weeks. I'm not sure if anyone will understand or will have responses. But I had to get all of this out of my head.
My family of origin, while not physically abusive, is toxic at best. I rarely see or talk to my parents. I do speak with my mother, but only for logistics- financial issues, working through school registration, tracking down old paperwork, etc. The last time my father and I spoke was when he visited in early June. I explained to him that the family dynamics were so toxic that I found it impossible to really be around either of them since they won't get help. I've spent years undoing the damage living in their house did. Neither of them remembered my birthday. I normally when asked answer that I don't have family. I definitely never felt while growing up that I had a home.
I am involved in alternative lifestyles and had a leather family for a time. I was in service to them for three years. I helped with events and programs they put on, spent holidays with them, and loved them deeply though not romantically. They were the closest thing I had to family while I was going through my undergrad. When I moved away they had a family meeting and blacklisted me. Those even somewhat attached were informed they were not to speak to me or reply to any correspondence. At the time, I was intending to return after the space of one or two years. I was never given a reason as to why they cut contact with me and I didn't return, feeling I had nothing to go back to. I grieved for a long while, maybe I'm still grieving. Theirs was the first true home I knew where there was joy and laughter and everyone was equal and valued. There was so much love there in those walls. And now they are closed to me forever and those people who I shared it with will not even return a holiday well wishing.
About a year later I moved to a new state where I had some friends and school and work prospects. One friend in particular was kind enough to let me into her home. At the time she was the oldest friend I had. I lived with her for 6 months while I got back on my feet and found a place of my own. She and her husband and I made something like a family unit for a while. We ate meals together, I went with them to Christmas at her mother's. I had a lot of autonomy but they made sure to take me places where they were going, made sure I felt included and tried to help me make friends. We had a falling out over my service dog even though they were staunch supporters of the plan theoretically. In practice it was too much for her to handle, and we haven't spoken/seen each other in over a year.
Now I have a best friend and her husband who are actively welcoming me into their home as a part of their life. They have a young boy I get on well with, and I love and trust both of them. They live a few minute's drive from me. I've been sort of a fixture in their home for the past year. I've spent last holiday there they were the only ones who remembered my birthday. But going to their house for holidays because I'm a lost thing with no one else who cares is so different. Now we're at a point where it's getting more important that it be discussed, communicated, formalized that I'm a part of the household and there are decisions that I need to help make if that will be how we move forward. They're trying to find acreage and both want me to come with them, live in a separate house on the property, keep going to school, help tend the horses. It sounds like a beautiful way to live while I find myself and grow. The sort of dream you don't want to talk about too loudly in case it disappears.
In my head, though, it's so different to take that step and say that I'm willing, that I want to be loved and love them and to be a family. If I say yes, it's vulnerable and it's just another home I can lose like the others. Whereas if we don't talk about it, I can't lose anything because I can say it was all a mistake. That I didn't understand, I read too deep into it, they didn't love me after all, only tolerated me. I just want to be able to say yes, but it's so filled with fear to even think about claiming a new home and being part of a new family.
What might be even worse is that I have explained all of this, and they understand. They're willing to give me time and to deal with the fact that I embrace them and then freak myself out and isolate and withdraw. And that understanding makes me easy because I'm already full of shame and fear.
My family of origin, while not physically abusive, is toxic at best. I rarely see or talk to my parents. I do speak with my mother, but only for logistics- financial issues, working through school registration, tracking down old paperwork, etc. The last time my father and I spoke was when he visited in early June. I explained to him that the family dynamics were so toxic that I found it impossible to really be around either of them since they won't get help. I've spent years undoing the damage living in their house did. Neither of them remembered my birthday. I normally when asked answer that I don't have family. I definitely never felt while growing up that I had a home.
I am involved in alternative lifestyles and had a leather family for a time. I was in service to them for three years. I helped with events and programs they put on, spent holidays with them, and loved them deeply though not romantically. They were the closest thing I had to family while I was going through my undergrad. When I moved away they had a family meeting and blacklisted me. Those even somewhat attached were informed they were not to speak to me or reply to any correspondence. At the time, I was intending to return after the space of one or two years. I was never given a reason as to why they cut contact with me and I didn't return, feeling I had nothing to go back to. I grieved for a long while, maybe I'm still grieving. Theirs was the first true home I knew where there was joy and laughter and everyone was equal and valued. There was so much love there in those walls. And now they are closed to me forever and those people who I shared it with will not even return a holiday well wishing.
About a year later I moved to a new state where I had some friends and school and work prospects. One friend in particular was kind enough to let me into her home. At the time she was the oldest friend I had. I lived with her for 6 months while I got back on my feet and found a place of my own. She and her husband and I made something like a family unit for a while. We ate meals together, I went with them to Christmas at her mother's. I had a lot of autonomy but they made sure to take me places where they were going, made sure I felt included and tried to help me make friends. We had a falling out over my service dog even though they were staunch supporters of the plan theoretically. In practice it was too much for her to handle, and we haven't spoken/seen each other in over a year.
Now I have a best friend and her husband who are actively welcoming me into their home as a part of their life. They have a young boy I get on well with, and I love and trust both of them. They live a few minute's drive from me. I've been sort of a fixture in their home for the past year. I've spent last holiday there they were the only ones who remembered my birthday. But going to their house for holidays because I'm a lost thing with no one else who cares is so different. Now we're at a point where it's getting more important that it be discussed, communicated, formalized that I'm a part of the household and there are decisions that I need to help make if that will be how we move forward. They're trying to find acreage and both want me to come with them, live in a separate house on the property, keep going to school, help tend the horses. It sounds like a beautiful way to live while I find myself and grow. The sort of dream you don't want to talk about too loudly in case it disappears.
In my head, though, it's so different to take that step and say that I'm willing, that I want to be loved and love them and to be a family. If I say yes, it's vulnerable and it's just another home I can lose like the others. Whereas if we don't talk about it, I can't lose anything because I can say it was all a mistake. That I didn't understand, I read too deep into it, they didn't love me after all, only tolerated me. I just want to be able to say yes, but it's so filled with fear to even think about claiming a new home and being part of a new family.
What might be even worse is that I have explained all of this, and they understand. They're willing to give me time and to deal with the fact that I embrace them and then freak myself out and isolate and withdraw. And that understanding makes me easy because I'm already full of shame and fear.
