Hold onto family, not grudges
I overshare. It’s a thing I do.
If I decide I like you, I’m sorry but you’re going to hear about All The Things. (Just ask my poor husband.)
If you’re reading this, I’ve decided I like you, because I’m pretty sure I’m about to overshare. Here goes nothin’.
Family is a weird concept, isn’t it?
Like the country or the year you were born in, the family you were born into wasn't something you chose or earned. It's just this default group of people you’re supposed to associate with. Because you’re related, it’s assumed your relationships with these people are supposed to be the strongest bonds of your life.
This being a stepmomming column, you might think my punchline would be: BUT you can form super strong relationships with people you’re not tied to by blood, like a stepmom and her stepkids!!!
Actually no, that’s not where I’m going with this.
True as that statement might be, I’m aiming in the opposite direction: Sometimes you don’t have super strong relationships with people you are tied to by blood.
And that baffles me.
Today’s Easter. For a family that’s as religious as mine was growing up, it should be a day when we all look forward to getting together.
But getting together is something that certain members of my family (who will remain unspecified) no longer participate in, because they’ve stopped speaking to certain other relatives. And I’m one of those “other.”
Frankly, it’s easier on me to not engage with these particular folks. I get to avoid the drama and discomfort of sitting in a room with people who have chosen to dislike me.
But it doesn’t negate the hurt, or the utter confusion as to why they’ve stuck to this position.
As far as I can figure, I think they’re mad at me for (in extremely generic terms) not turning out like they wanted me to. (For the record, “they” are not my parents; oddly, my mom and dad actually do still like me. Yay!)
Also oddly, in the years that I haven’t talked to these folks, I’ve found my new tribe, including my beautiful husband and stepkids. And I’m learning that family you choose can be better – read: more loving, considerate, loyal – than the family you were handed.
But still. As random and haphazard as my original family was, they’re still my original family. Whether they like me or not, we share memories that go way back, and you can’t just replace those.
They’ve thrown it all away. It blows my mind that it means nothing to them.
It also blows my mind that my new family has accepted me as wholeheartedly as they have.
Whatever your personal definition of family is, whether they’re your blood or your choice, I just hope you hold onto them, if you can.
I don’t usually quote the Bible in here, but sometimes, something from it pops up in my brain, and it fits. Today being Easter, I figure it fits:
“If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” (Romans 12:18)
I might not be religious much these days, but this is one concept I do try to live by. So far as it depends on me, I’ve tried to live peaceably. Some people just don’t want it.
So, at least until something changes (which I still hope, perhaps foolishly, that it might?), I’ll keep my attention on the ones that do.
Email Emely Varosky at evarosky@heraldnews.com.