My family is those related to me, my mother and father and sisters and those beyond. They shelter me from pain and teach me about the world they know. They know how to frustrate me beyond anyone and would change the pride I have in me for my future husband to shame. But they love me with a depth no one can touch, that is thicker than water. They still hurt me, but I am so proud in those in my life who wear the badge of family more prominently than anyone will until I begin my own family.
My family is those in my tribe, those who share points of my identity. There are those who share my faith, my sexual identity, my career ideals. We did not choose each other, but rather rally toward a central idea. Sometimes one tribe will war with another, causing me the pain of thinking I must choose between the different parts of myself. In keeping every tribe around, I am perpetually on the hard-fought fringe. But I am proud of my families and would not give up any for all the ease in the world.
My family is those I call by name, the ones from my life that have stayed in trials to stand by me through to the other side. I know their stories and they know mine and we like each other anyway. They are the few I want to know all my secrets and I would be honored to know theirs. This group has no contract of blood or interest, no reason to be a family beyond a mutual desire. I am proud of my friends, that family I name, for they show me that I am not merely the sum of my genes and interests, but a man.I love my different family's. I can, because they teach me how to love.
1 comment:
Who is that lady in the middle? She's quite fancy!
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