I have come to a very odd realization in these past couple of days; one that I know is going to sound completely melodramatic and lame, I am aware.
I have a family now, I have people that actually care about my wellbeing and make a point to make sure that I am ok. People that give me hugs before they go to bed, and tell me where they are going and when they are going to be home that night. People that honestly care if I have had a bad day or not, and will give me a shoulder to cry on when I haven’t.
I am being totally pathetic when I say this, but I have never had a family before. Unless you count a fall down drunk mother and an aunt that likes to give what we call “The Molesting Hug” as a family. (I don’t). More often than not in these past three years I was home alone, and I have gotten used to the solitude.
Now I don’t live with my mother anymore, I live with my family. I am never alone in the house, which is going to take some getting used to I think.
Granted it is not the most “normal” of families, it’s quite unique… to say the least. My lovely lesbian sister Amanda, who from the time I was six until I was 12 raised me. My sisters partner, De and their two sort of adopted children, whom are actually De’s two younger siblings, Aussie and Koda. Stacy and Boo, people that have found comfort in our makeshift family, same as I have.
And then there is me… the recluse, the hermit, the girl that is slowly coming out of her shell… I am all of these things. But more than that I am welcome and wanted, for once in my life.
Don’t get me wrong, my daddy tried to give me as much normalcy as he could on our every other week visits, but it wasn’t the same as having round the clock care and attention.
For more information on “The Molesting Hug” wait until my next blog… I will describe said hug for you as best I can.
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