From House to Home.

I think I just spent the last 19 years missing the point of family entirely.

I spent most of those years being angry at who they were and at what they lacked. I spent so much time trying to understand them, to see how I fit in, to test their love for me. I spent years dissecting their shortcomings and their differences to other families. I though about running way on multiple occasions – even till I was 18 years old. Yes, I had an emergency fund.

I don’t think those years were a total waste, though. I really don’t want to explain. We grow, we become better individuals, ya da ya da. Basically, I was being a teenager.

But I think the worst of it was that I felt like I didn’t belong in my own family. I felt misunderstood. But by that definition of being understood, nobody is every truly understood by anybody. It’s impossible to fully know someone. Most people live their entire lives not knowing themselves.

Point is – the distance has made me appreciate them. They’re the only people who will love me fully at my worst. If I turn out to be a major disappointment in society’s definition of success, they will still accept me. I’m not saying I don’t have friends who will also love me like that, but this isn’t about friendship. This is about loving a group of people you really had no choice in being connected to.

It’s scary the power and love behind a blood connection.

I’m digressing all over the place.

I didn’t intend this to be a I-love-my-family blog.

This was meant to be…..a. Wow, I was a stupid teenager blog. Not that I’m saying I’m a not-stupid person now. I still am. I’m just glad I finally have this understanding when there’s still time to make changes. I think my family knew this would come. They had hope that I would finally see this. But, like them, I’m glad I realized when I was 20 and not 40.

I’m also saying that this was a difficult realization because I question everything. I question people, their motivations, their intentions, their personalities, the relationship I have with the. But, family is one group of people I don’t need to question. We’re extensions of each other, just different in time and space and generation and circumstance. We like the same things, think the same thoughts….and that’s fucking beautiful.

My family recently moved from Bangkok, Thailand to Thunderbay, Canada. We have a big house on a hill overlooking snowy mountains. It’s a quiet neighborhood. We have privacy and comfort. My father works at the University of Thunderbay and my brother goes to school. My mother, who has never been a housewife, and I love her for it, is finally taking a professional break. It’s so comforting knowing that she’s spending all her time and energy making a house in the middle of nowhere… a home.

Yes, I’ve thougroguhly idealized and romanticized the situation, and become blatantly blind to the negatives – but fuck it, I’m so happy.