The Family I Came From
Everyone thinks our family is so perfect.
From the outside, we probably look like one of those families who have it all together.
But little do they know,
There's a lot that happens within our family that nobody really talks about.
There’s always something happening behind the scenes.
Someone’s name comes up when they’re not around, people compare where they are in life, what they have and what they’ve achieved.
Sometimes it feels like we’re all quietly keeping score.
But when it comes to actually confronting those things, that’s not really something we’re encouraged to do.
We’re taught to stay quiet, respect our elders, and leave certain things alone.
So instead, a lot gets brushed aside and left unspoken just to keep the peace.
Even when the peace was never really there to begin with.
Seeing My Family For What It Is
I didn’t realise how much of that environment had become a part of me.
It wasn’t until I had relationships and experiences outside of my family, that I started questioning some of the things I had always accepted as normal.
There were parts of my upbringing that had influenced the way I communicated, the way I handled conflict, and even the things I was willing to tolerate from people.
And that was difficult to admit.
When something has been part of your life for as long as you can remember, it can be hard to separate what actually feels right to you from what you’ve simply been used to.
Then started paying more attention to myself.
I noticed the moments when I would hold something back even though I wanted to speak.
The times I would question whether my opinion was worth saying.
The way I could feel guilty for doing something differently, even when I knew it was what I wanted.
Those things made me question where they came from.
That’s when I started recognising my family for what it really was, not the perfect picture people saw from the outside, but a family with its own complicated dynamics, patterns and things we never really talked about.
Finding Myself Outside Of It
Don’t get me wrong, I love my family so much.
I always have.
But being part of a family doesn’t mean every part of that family feels like you.
I’m the black sheep in our family, and everyone knows I don’t exactly go by the book.
I question things.
I have opinions.
I don’t always agree with everyone else, and I’ve never been very good at pretending that I do just because it would make things easier.
For a while, I wondered if there was something wrong with me for being like that.
Why couldn’t I just let certain things go?
Why did I question things other people seemed comfortable accepting?
Why did I feel the need to make my own decisions instead of simply following what was familiar?
But the more honest I became with myself, the more I realised these weren’t questions I needed to answer for anyone else.
They were questions I needed to answer for myself.
The little things that felt natural to me and the things that didn’t.
The opinions I actually believed.
The way I wanted to communicate.
The things I felt strongly about, even when nobody else understood why.
And I think that’s what I’m still exploring when I think about the family I came from.
Not whether I belong to them.
I always will.
But how much of the person I am today was shaped by that environment, and how much of me was already there underneath it all.