We’re all guilty of taking other people’s perceptions of us and using that to prove our worth. But our worth isn’t dependent on other’s perceptions of us. We determine our own worth. The minute that you let others take that from you, you let them win.
Too many times, we shy away from striving for our dreams. Why do we do that? It’s mostly fear, but is it our fear that we can’t do it? That we’re not good enough? Or, does this fear come externally? Are you afraid of achieving your goals because other people will think that it’s silly? It’s easier to just give up on your dreams than fight through all of the noise trying to achieve them. It doesn’t matter if you’re a college freshman or a nearly 40-year-old woman. We all have this believe that we should have it all figured out by a certain age. But let’s be honest here: how many people actually do? I’m willing to guarantee a lot more people died in the world, just winging it because they didn’t have it figured out. Knowing that should give you some type of comfort that just maybe, there’s no age that you need to have everything figured out. And as I always say, “that’s ok.”
You just need to find some passion in your life, no matter how silly you think other people think it is. If your passion is to stay home and raise a family while your partner works, good for you in knowing what you want to do. If you want to be a writer or a teacher or an FBI agent, and you are truly passionate about achieving that goal, the only thing that should be holding you back is you. And if you decide, “nah, maybe not?” That’s okay too. Sometimes you just have to experience it to know whether or not that’s the right path for you.
This can sometimes be the pressure that makes kids more stressed out than they need to be. That they need to apply to college with a specific program and stick to it because they had to have a plan. Then, for some reason, people make them feel guilty for deciding to go another route. Maybe they found that what they though was their passion, really wasn’t. That’s okay. That’s what college is for. I switched my major halfway through. I get it. You have a dream and realize that maybe you don’t love it anymore.
But, you should never give it up for other people. Don’t give them that power. If you are truly passionate about something, pardon my language, then “fuck ’em”. They don’t dictate your life. You do. Take back the power and do what you want with your life. As long as you can go to bed at peace with yourself, you’ll be all right.
I’ve had trouble finding inspiration for these posts recently, primarily because between my 2 jobs, my brain power is already stretched too thin. But I always find the best inspiration in my everyday life, so today I would like to talk to you about my day on the internet Sunday.
By the time this posts, it will be Tuesday. I’m writing this Sunday while the hilarious events of my weekend are still fresh in my mind. Because honestly, I’ll probably forget about it by tomorrow. It all started by my usual “Asshole Parking” posts that I do on my Facebook, which are the only public ones that I post. I keep those public because sometimes people like to share them. We all like to laugh at them. It’s fun. Then a family member invited me to join a group about “Masshole Parking”. I’m among my people now!
Except I apparently either A) didn’t fully understand the group or B) the person who’s car I posted in the picture was in the group because apparently it wasn’t as amusing to them when I posted Sunday’s edition of Asshole Parking. Honestly, it was my bad. I ended up deleting the post and leaving the group, primarily because as an adult, I don’t engage in arguments with people hiding behind a keyboard. With the time and effort that they put into trying to be “savage”, they obviously have their struggles so if they want to win the internet award in their mind today, let them have it. I barely care what people I know think about me; some rando on the internet certainly doesn’t impact my world.
So why am I posting about it? As a lesson to everyone on the internet. Why waste your effort to be cruel or to argue with someone on the internet? You don’t. You leave it alone and let them win because life’s too short to give a crap. It’s like that high school bully. They only act like that because of their own insecurities and need for superiority. My ego is fine. You want that win over me, have it. Sometimes stepping back is more powerful because you’re showing that you’re the bigger person. Except not really, because I’ve definitely considered using the illegally parked car picture as my post picture.
I noticed that I haven’t been up to date with this. I’ll be better about that, I promise. I’m still trying to figure out that work/work/life balance that I keep hearing and ghostwriting about so much. Spoiler: I think it’s as fake as a unicorn. Or I’m just taking on too much. Honestly, it could go either way. But there’s just never enough time in the day.
Normally by now in the year, I’m prepping for NaNoWriMo. It hasn’t been a successful November so far, but I try every year. Sometimes I hate that I try, mostly because I hate failing at it. I don’t think this year will be much better. I haven’t even decided whether or not I’m doing it, but maybe. I will probably decide at the last minute.
We’re all getting well-adjusted to our new routine. One of our fears of me deciding to go back to a physical office to work was that our youngest would have a disruption in his routine. He’s a creature who loves his routine, so any disruptions to that tend to bother him. When I say “any disruptions”, I mean that something so much as I ask him to get dressed before the time I usually ask him to get dressed can trigger him. But, he adjusts well after he’s established a specific routine. We’re getting there.
I’ve been working at my new job for over a month now. I love it. I’m happy to go to work everyday. I low-key even love the grunt work of unloading pallets and moving them into the warehouse. In this month, we have established routines that seem to just be instinct now. I get up early to shower, do some writing work, then get myself, my husband, and my youngest ready for the day. I make lunches in between pouring hot water into our Chemex to make our coffee for work. I take one of our puppers out, then get dressed for work. Then, we leave for work. Come home, I feed the dogs, take our Arya out, then start cooking supper while my husband brings the babysitter (my brother) home and helps our youngest with his homework. It quickly becomes natural. That’s where everything else gets messy.
There’s not enough time in the day to do anything other than basic cleaning, if that. And honestly, sometimes I’m way too tired to bother. The good news is I’m now too busy for guests to come over, so the cleaning is secondary to everything else in my life right now.
However, there’s still that expectation of everything that a working mom should be looming over me. I shrug it off, mostly. But sometimes it’s hard to think about how little I think I actually do when I’m home. Because even after I clock out of my out of home job, I’m still balancing my writing jobs. But, money helps because that’s the society we live in. Especially now.
Don’t worry about running out of time in the day. Focus on your priorities and honestly, to hell with everything else. It’s easy to feel like you’re drowning, but prioritizing your day can really be the lifesaver that you need to come up. Also, I promise to do better. Maybe not promise. I will strive to do better.
I’ve been missing lately, primarily due to illness and general busyness that is life. I’ll be better, I promise.
Among the latest moves in my life was a shift to working back in a normal job, at least temporarily for now. Maybe more permanent later if the option arises. Even if there isn’t another opportunity for me, it’s been really great to be back at it. You underestimate the boosts to your mental to get out of the sweatpants and house for a little bit. It’s refreshing. It’s a little sad missing my boys, but it was time. Even if I’m somehow blessed with another one, it’s still time to be back at it.
It’s still a bit of an adjustment period, especially as I still navigate my writing career on the side. It’s something that I think is important to keep because I like writing and it’s still money. While my writing jobs have taken a hit from COVID, I just take it as a sign that it was time to find something outside of the house. Plus, being home all the time during COVID did take some of the enjoyment I had working from home. But I’m a creature of habit who thrives on routine, so finding a new routine is hard and annoying to get into. I’ll get there though. I’m an intelligent, reasonable, and resilient person. I’ve got this.
This is just a reminder that no mom has it easy. It’s not easy when they work from home. It’s not easy when their sole job is being a mom and homemaker. It’s not easy when they work outside of the office. You’re not going to win no matter what you do. What matters is to not compare yourself to the “more perfect” moms who have everything seemingly together. I guarantee that they don’t. Social media only gives glimpses into an entire story that you can’t see. It’s hard being a woman with all the expectations society places on you, especially when you’re a mother. But, you got this.
We just need to be reminded that we got this. That even on those bad days, we’ve got this. Even if you are too tired to cook and the Burger King is right next door and you don’t care if it’s the 3rd time this week you had fast food because your fridge is still dead. You’ve got this. Even if you feel guilty that you’re happy about being at work and not dealing with tantrums. You really have got this.
Everyone’s social media pages seem either full of happy pictures of their picture perfect life or inspirational quotes that are meant to be poignant and/or uplifting. It’s nice to read. My social media page is full of illegally parked cars blocking my driveway, which further fill me with anxiety-addled rage every time that I post them. A frequent theme that I see in these posts are “You can’t give from an empty cup”. It’s true. As someone who’s frequently running on empty, it’s hard to give anyone 100%. I do it anyways, sucking it up and overcoming exhaustion to do so. That’s what I’m good for.
What gets me through this empty tank is trying to prove that I’m something. That I’m of use. With everyday life problems like a fridge on its deathbed when that’s the last thing you want to put money into and a bathtub faucet that’s probably using a gallon a day but you know that the piping is probably not to code and will cost like $10,000 to fix, it’s hard to feel like you are useful. It’s easy to feel like you’re a failure at everything when your kid is screaming bloody murder because you enforce the same bedtime every night and they know that they have that bedtime but still scream at you for being unfair anyways. Those are the struggles that people face. The middle class, who honestly took a massive hit during this pandemic, has to face these things every day while trying to work as hard as they can to make ends meet while the rich people sit up there and talk about how you can also succeed if you have rich families so pull yourself up. We’re not going to be perfect. We’re not going to be the perfect parents that feed our kids gourmet, balanced organic meals. We’re the ones who say “screw it” and just cook up frozen chicken nugs and fries, calling it a day because you don’t have much more in you that day.
Still, we get up and soldier on because that’s what’s expected of us. That’s what we need to do. What other option is there, really? Just the simple fact that we get up and try every day is significant, especially on those more difficult days. It’s easy to just assume that getting out of bed is easy. It’s not. It’s something that is easier for some than others. It’s inevitable that some days everyone just wants to stay in the comforts of their bed because they can’t handle anymore. People don’t talk enough about those days. Maybe it’s because they assume people will pity them or think that they are fishing for sympathy. Maybe it’s because they prefer their struggles in private. Maybe they are in denial of their struggles and want to put on a “Thrive not struggle” mentality, pushing that on other people and making them feel worse than they do on those bad days.
This motivational, pyramid-scheme emphasis on thriving is something that I think makes people feel worse. It doesn’t motivate them; it depresses them further to a point where they think falling into a pyramid scheme is the answer to their struggles. It’s not. But they can thrive if they sell this product, which gives the person who recruited them some money and the person who recruited the person who recruited them even more money, creating a pyramid where really the only one that thrives is the higher ups that came up with the scheme to begin with. /endrant
The real point isn’t a knock at “multi-level marketing” scams.. I mean… businesses.
The real point is that when you made the choice to wake up anyways, you won the battle. Mental health is a war and just showing up is winning. You’re fighting every day and sometimes people lose the battle, and they should be remembered for having the strength that they did to make it so long. The battle can be harder for some than it is others. It’s important to remember that every time that you judge someone for anything. Everyone has their silent struggles that they won’t talk about. And you know what? I think that’s okay. I think sometimes people just need to know that people are there and not have a need to share their struggles. I think that sometimes people do need to share those struggles and they should feel safe enough to do so. Everyone’s journey is as unique as they are. I think that the important part is that you make yourself available and support them on their journey in the best ways that you can.
Also, just be kind people. Can we try that for a change?
In the past, the “Random Rantings” of this blog was inspired by news. Sometimes it was news that was too ridiculous for me to comprehend. Sometimes it was trying to see both sides of the argument to come up with my own opinion. Then there was inspiration in my own life. The television shows I watched that sparked an internal debate with me were figured out as I wrote them here. The struggles of being a mom or working from home or really both. The struggles of being a writer. I found inspiration in those moments and shared them because I knew others also had that struggle and it maybe felt nice for them to hear someone else talk through what they are internalizing.
The news isn’t inspiring anymore. It’s terrifying. I can’t believe that this is the world I am living in. That I’m bringing up my children in. I deal with selfish entitled jerks who use my driveway for their own personal parking spot, showing me that people are really only getting worse. (Just for “Hahas”, the article picture is one said car parked illegally blocking a sidewalk and obstructing my driveway. Because I’m petty.) I’m reading about how people think wearing a mask is infringing on their medical freedoms but if you have a uterus, they can infringe on whatever they want. They have people arrested with Nazi signs emblazoned all over the place, while in the same breath insisting that they are racist and full of hate. It’s almost as if I’m living in a fictional world, not writing about one. It’s too insane to even begin to write about, though I’m sure I will after I’ve processed.
Since Kindle Vella has been released, I kept trying to figure out what I should write a series about. I did eventually get inspiration from my real life. I’m genuinely excited for this new project and while I was going to hold off in discussing about it, maybe I can untie some knots in my first serial by sharing with you the premise and title.
With the popularity of “Slice of Life” animes, I’ve decided to write a slice of life-ish serial. This will be a compilation of stories from the life of Olivia (still deciding on the main character’s name but so far this is what we’ve got). The serial will be entitled “A Day in the Life of the White Trash Capital”, following Olivia as she navigates difficult neighbors, a love/hate relationship with her city, and everything else a boy mom has to deal with. (Sound familiar?) I don’t want to give too much away, but I will say I’m having fun writing it and it’s definitely been an emotional release of my annoyance and anger.
It’s good to be writing again for myself. I can’t wait to see where this story takes me and it’s going to be a blast.
Back to school time is one that many moms look forward to, especially those of us who work from home that just want their space back to get the stuff that they need to done. (Spoiler: school makes us even busier, so it doesn’t actually help.) As excited as we are to have them off in the world, getting those experiences, it’s hard. It’s hard to not worry about them at school, because we know how awful school can be with bullying, active shooter drills, and the potential for a school shooting. It’s even harder when they are off to school across the state, trying to figure out their new home for the year. Us moms tend to carry the lion’s share of the burdens. Us moms are the backbones of the family. This isn’t a complaint. This isn’t an insult to the partners in our lives who show up and do everything within their power to help. They are putting in the work too.
But let’s face it: the mom’s are the strength in the family. We’re the ones that hide our tears to be everyone else’s comfort. We’re the ones worrying about the budget and making sure that everything is running as it should. During the pandemic and shut down, this became even more apparent. I’ll admit, part of me was happy about this. Any moms that potentially judged my working from home and mentioning how hard it was to work from home and be a stay at home parent at the same time, were now seeing that it isn’t an easy journey. But we were there, through the remote learning meltdowns, the “everything is falling apart and I miss my friends” meltdowns, and the meltdowns caused by the unknowns that this pandemic tossed in our children’s lives. All while we were fighting back our own meltdowns.
I haven’t recovered from it. That’s okay that I haven’t recovered from the stress of the past year. It’s okay that I’m not okay about my oldest being away at college and how quiet the house is with my youngest back in school as well. It’s okay that I’m not okay because I feel lost and uncertainty of what I’m doing. It’s okay that I’m not okay with my husband going away on a work trip around the youngest child’s birthday all while not being okay about everything else. The whole point here is that it’s okay to not be okay. A lot of us really aren’t okay right now. We’re struggling with how last year impacted us because there was so much going on and not enough time to sit back and process it. We’re struggling with how things are going because we still haven’t processed the last pile of crap we had to walk through and as we’re looking forward, there’s still plenty of crap that we need to waddle through that we’ll eventually need to process. That stuff lingers and set our brains and souls on fire.
Would I be lying if I said that it’s hard to see the grass on the other side of this crap? Nope. Things don’t look like they are going to be better anytime soon. I think we can be optimistic that we survived it so far, showing just how resilient we are even if we don’t feel like it.
You’re not alone right now. You’re really not. Even if you seem like you’re okay on social media, we see you. You don’t need to hide the struggle. I write these posts because they make me feel better about not being okay. But it turns out, it’s as beneficial for readers to see someone admit that they are going through the same struggles as it is for the writer to get them out there. If you’re not okay, there are people out there on your side. You just need to reach out to them. Even if you just want to drop a note here to make you feel better.
People always tell parents that they blink and the next thing they know, their kids are being dropped off at their college dorm or moving out or getting married and they are having their own kids. It’s weird to think that 18 years, nearly 2 decades, is such a short period of time. You don’t even know what happened. One minute, your child is walking around a KMart, with his pants at his ankles because nothing ever fit him right saying “Mommy, pants fall” and the next, you’re making his bed at college and taking all of the pictures you can within reason. Did they really grow up enough to be tossed into essentially total independence? Did we do enough to prepare him? I guess time will tell.
We’re so happy that we’re able to give him this experience. We’re happy that his hard work paid off. He’s had a goal in mind since he was little and worked so hard even at such a young age with the goal of going into college and working for the FBI. He’s spent his entire school career working towards this goal and he got into his first choice college. We’re so proud of him. But moving across state may as well be across the country. Though, I’m convinced even if he did go to a closer school, including my own excellent college within our city, him living there would be too far away. You’re really not as prepared as you want to be when the day comes.
The main campus.
It’s a nice campus. It’s bigger in person than we thought. Due to COVID, we didn’t really get to tour the campus ourselves to check it out, so it was a bit overwhelming. We took ourselves on our own little tour, hoping that when the first day of school starts next week, he won’t be as overwhelmed going to class. His dorm is within only a few minutes walk of a small beach and marsh hiking path. There’s this nice running/walking/biking path in the area, which I teased him for not knowing how to ride a bike. He rolled his eyes at me and mumbled, “I know how to ride a bike” and I responded with, “Last I saw, not very well.” He was always much better with his skateboard or scooter than his bike.
It was hard. My husband had his teary-eyed moment when he started packing up our son’s desktop, because he intends to continue his streaming while at college. He later laughed about it saying that he saw more dads crying at the move-in day than the moms. I said it was because we had to be strong for everyone else and we’d have our meltdowns later when we were alone at some random point of time because we folded a towel wrong or something. Admittedly, despite feeling the tears form in the back of my eyes and throat, I haven’t had that moment yet. Maybe after my youngest goes to school, we’ll see if coming back to the lonely house hits me.
It’s already hard. The first night, it was hard because after our youngest went to bed, we would watch shows or movies that weren’t appropriate for the youngest. We’d connect over these shows, talk about random things inspired by the shows. We’d sometimes group up for Overwatch and complain about how bad the other players were. He streamed with the new shiny webcam that our nephew/his best friend got him as a going away present. We watched, like the weird, stalker-y parents that we were, marveling about the great job we did while also being sad about doing a great job and having him so far away. My husband kept reiterating the point of “if you hate it here, there are plenty of closer schools.” My husband also kept switching between “I hope he loves it there” and “Is it bad I hope he hates it there and comes home?” It’s funny to watch the struggle between wanting your child to succeed at their dreams, but the selfishness of us wanting to keep them our small babies forever.
It hurt a little getting off the Pike back home and hearing a song come on that he would normally sing very loudly to in the backseat. We pulled up to the house to drop off our nephew so he could get his car out of the driveway before we picked up our youngest from my parents. As we pulled up, he still had his “Class of 2021” sign in our yard. It’s been hard to consider taking it down. It was even harder pulling up to see it.
The next morning was also hard. Normally our oldest son, despite having his own room and a very nice, comfortable mattress, falls asleep on the couch. He’s usually too tired from playing video games or streaming that he just goes to bed where his computer is. But he likes having his computer out in the living room because he’s a weird kid who loves hanging out with his parents. I woke up early, as I often do on Mondays to get my husband’s lunch and coffee ready before he goes to his early morning meeting. Normally, I walk into the living room and I have to be quiet as a go in to work and get my husband’s stuff ready. I tiptoed in, only to remember that he wasn’t there. He wasn’t sprawled out on the couch, with his favorite blanket that I got him when we first bought this house 7 years ago. I didn’t have to go over and fix his blanket, even though it’s hot, just because he likes the comfort of it. It was just an empty couch except for our lab/pointer mix Arya, who was laying in our son’s “spot”. She looked at me with sad eyes. “Yes, Arya. Me too.”
I saw the recycling that was still full and normally I would wake our son up to take care of it for me. But he’s not there. Still, I walked around as silently as possible out of habit or even hope that maybe it would trick my brain into thinking he was still here. He’s not. He’s not going to be here to watch our trashy TLC reality shows that we love to watch together. He’s not going to be there sharing the memes from Reddit about the show after watching it together. He’s not going to be there to laugh when I say “kimchi bitches” and imitating the scene from “Nora from Queens”. I’m not going to wake up to hear him in the kitchen and smell the kimchi that he’s eating with chopsticks straight from the fridge at 3 in the morning. Or smell the extra hot yakisoba noodles that he likes to cook up. Or see him walk into the living room with his kimchi ramen, spoon, and chopsticks and watch him quickly take chopstick bites in between Valorant rounds. Or wonder why he has the spoon because he just slurps the broth after the noodles are gone anyways, like normal kids would drink the milk after their bowl of cereal.
It’s the little things that you miss, like the arguing between the siblings or yelling about tossing the clothes next to the hamper, not in the hamper. Or the spilling the kimchi broth as I gag trying to clean it up because I just cannot get over how nauseating it is to me. It’s only been a few days and it’s so hard to overlook that there may be a part of you missing.
It’s for the best. He’s going to be great. He’s going to do great things in the world. I believe that. He’s destined to be the change that he wants to see in the world and he’s determined and smart enough to do it.
I’m very much pro-vaccine. If my doctor told me to get a vaccine, I’m going to trust the person I’ve trusted for 20 years with my health over information on Google or YouTube. When I was pregnant, with my kids, my biggest question was to always make sure that I was up-to-date with vaccinations because I wanted my unborn child to be safe. I might not always be the best when it comes to getting a flu shot, only because it always seemed like an inconvenience to go through. But I try to remember it for myself. I never forget it for my kids, which is the most important thing.
Now enter in the COVID vaccine, which I’ve already written about. It’s not new science behind the shot, mRNA approaches to vaccines have been studied for decades. People are hesitant and the sole reason for that is half-assed research on the internet. Fine, don’t get it. That’s absolutely your choice. I’m all about people making their own decisions, as dumb as I may find them. When I had my newborns, no one was allowed around my kids without being up-to-date on their basic shots. You weren’t going to hold my newborn and give him whooping cough. Nope. If people don’t want to get vaccinated, that’s 100% their choice and right not to.
What I’m not going to say is that because they made this choice, that they should be denied medical care. If they don’t realize the hypocrisy in getting experimental treatment to not die from COVID but are afraid of the “experimental” vaccine, then there’s not point in even reasoning with them. People don’t care about facts or logic. It’s easier to be told what to think than actually trust science that they don’t agree with. Their beliefs hold precedence over anything else. It doesn’t matter what the reality is. But when you start limiting medical care because of one reason, what’s to stop someone from limiting medical care for another reason such as obesity? You can’t claim that you’re for medical care for all but then start talking about who you should limit medical care for. That is just as hypocritical as taking non-FDA approved “experimental” treatments when you won’t take a shot. Both sides are equally wrong and equally bat-shit crazy, in my humble opinion. Science isn’t political; people make science political.
Though, I admit I do have a lack of compassion for people over their choice. I was reading this sad story about how someone was talking about how their wife nearly died from COVID. It was heartbreaking. Then I read that they were both against the vaccine because it’s experimental. Then I was like “But so is the medication that saved her life?” Then I didn’t feel bad. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes I always say. I’m very much a believer in actions having consequences. If you made a choice and you nearly died from it, then I honestly don’t really feel bad. I’m a horrible human being like that.
Would I feel comfortable having someone over my house that wasn’t vaccinated? Absolutely not. If they got sick from COVID and even died from it, I don’t want that on my conscience. I don’t want my unvaccinated nearly 9 year old to be put at any more risk than he has to be. I might even only have a family-only birthday party for him because at least I know that they are all vaccinated. You can make your own choice about not getting vaccinated. That’s your right. But just as I respect that right, it should also be respected that I’m going to be extremely cautious around you. It goes both ways. I’m not a sheeple and if you think that I am, I’m going to say you’re also one because you’re just following what you saw on the internet. At least I’m following the advice of medical professionals that I trust.
Mask or don’t mask, your call. Vaccinate or not vaccinate, your call. I’m biased and think basing your opinions on a vaccine based on not educating yourself properly or listening to people who are actually vaccinated telling you that it’s bad for you, it’s something that doesn’t impresses me. I don’t think you’re brave for that choice. I think you made a choice and that’s that. Do I judge people who spread misinformation? Absolutely. I’ve heard very valid reasons for people not vaccinating their kids and themselves and I respect the educated decision. I don’t respect the decision of “Fox News/Newsmax/QAnon Politicians told me not to, so I won’t” or “I saw on the internet…” because that’s insane to me. Ignorance is a choice. It’s one that should be accepted because if someone is at that point, they aren’t going to listen to any arguments to convince them otherwise. I’ll still be friends with you and support your decision, even if I roll my eyes at it.
That’s what we’re supposed to do. Because we can’t fight for liberties of making own own health decisions while telling other people what their health decisions should be. Do I personally believe in having an abortion? Nope. I couldn’t do it because of my own beliefs. Does that mean I think no one else can because I don’t personally believe in it? Nope. Their body, their choice. But I just ask that you remember the “my body, my choice” excuse that you’re using now about this vaccine should apply to other people for making their own decisions about their body.
Some people go by the traditional definition of family, where it includes a mom, dad, and their kid(s). But family isn’t about some definition. Family isn’t about the blood that connects people; it’s about the love that does. It doesn’t matter if you pushed your child out naturally, had them pulled out surgically, or if you legally or unofficially adopted them. It doesn’t matter if you were born into a family. Family is something that you can build for yourself, with whatever your definition of family is. Because it’s the love and support that matters; not genetics.
Recently for a movie night, our family decided to watch “Instant Family”. The premise of this movie is that the main couple want to adopt a family. While the movie itself was a cute, heartwarming, but silly movie, it sparked a conversation in my family that proves just how powerful art can be. Our oldest, who was essentially unofficially adopted by my husband from around the age of 1, understands that it’s not about the blood relationship. He knows that my husband was there for his first t-ball game, any school event, band concerts, and anything else. He screamed his name with pride from the stands during sporting events and screamed as loud as he could at his graduation. Even after having his own biological child, he never treated our oldest as anything other than his son. It’s definitely something that warms my heart all the time, watching the bond those two have.
After watching the movie, my oldest talked about how he wants to adopt too. He said it wasn’t just the movie, but also seeing the way that his father is with him shows him that you don’t need to be there for the child’s birth to love them. From someone who insisted that he never wanted kids to deciding that he wanted to adopt when he’s older was something incredible to see. Even prior to the movie, my husband and I have considered fostering/adopting. In the future, when we have more money and a bigger home, then that’s something we probably will do. Even my youngest has decided that he wanted to adopt, because “so many kids have no parents and that’s sad”.
The whole point is that you can create a family of your own choosing. You can adopt or foster or have your own kids. It’s about the love that you have for the child, not how the child became a part of your family. Or, you can choose to not have kids at all and surround yourself with friends and family that you love. There’s no single definition of what a family is. Sorry, forget that. There is a definition of family that I follow: People who love and care for each other, always offering support. That is my definition of family.
Don’t resign yourself to society’s expectations for what a family is. Have as many or as few kids as you want. You shouldn’t be pressured to do something like get married or have kids because that’s what a family is supposed to be. That’s someone else’s definition of family and that doesn’t mean it’s right for you. Make your own definition of what family means to you.
bluishoblivion 