All is relative

I´m luckier than most. In fact, if I’m being honest, I’m the luckiest person in the world. I get to choose who’s my family, what the ground rules are, how our interactions are going to work, and shape me. How I’m going to shape you too. 

The Oxford dictionary defines “family” as “a group consisting of one or two parents and their children”, but also as “a group consisting of one or two parents, their children and close relations”. I know what they mean by “close relations”. They are supposed to be your aunts and uncles, your cousins, your grandparents. But what if they are not close? What if those are people you see once or twice a year? People you can make small talk with, but nothing else? What if you rather confide your distress to someone you haven´t even seen in real life, that are just a bunch of pixels on your screen with a cute profile pic, than your own relatives? We mustn´t forget relative can also be a noun and an adjective. It can mean “a person who is in the same family as somebody else”, and also “considered and judged by being compared with something else”. 

We can share blood, a gene pool, and a surname or two. That doesn’t mean anything to me. Not by itself. Instead, we might never be in each other’s genealogical tree, we might need some bureaucratic nonsense so our state recognizes us as part of our lives, but I’ll call you family. And I have so many of those I can’t even begin to name them.

I have my chosen family. Those people that I will always rely on, no matter where they are. People I’ll share a beer with, a night out, a night in, a video, a laugh, a cry. People who love me for who I am. Whom I love for who they are. We won’t always understand each other. We might even not like each other all the time, but that doesn’t mean we won’t stand by each other. They are my people, my tribe, my gang, my rocks. They will cheer me on when I’m tired, will celebrate me when I conquer anything I set my eyes on, will reprimand me when I do something wrong. They will teach me how to see they world through their lenses and will learn from my point of view. They will make mistakes, apologize, be stubborn about it. I’ll make mistakes, apologize, be stubborn about it. And we will move on. Cause the love we have for each other is stronger than a petty joke. 

Those are the people that didn’t get me when I came out as asexual and biromantic but chose to say: “I’m here for you”. Those that asked the right and the wrong questions, that keep on learning, that keep on walking this path with me, every day, every hour. Those are the people I’ll never get tired to answer their questions, because I know they come from a place of love.

Then there’s my queer family. All those people that won’t jump from a bridge for me but accept me either way. People with whom I don’t need to mask, lie or be anything different. People that will defend my right to exist and be proud. Those could become part of my chosen family, who knows? But no matter if that happens or not, they will always be there, making me feel part of something bigger, sheltered, worthy.

There is also another “family”. The ace family. People I’ve been meeting online, that always share their experiences, their knowledge, their voice to lift us all up. People that, without realising it, helped me figure out what I am, who I am and how I fit in the world. That made me change perspectives. That made me throw away labels (weird, freak, sick…) and embrace others. People I keep learning from every single day, that help so much those of us who are lost, confused, and tired. 

I know I might never get that other type of family that the world seems to be so adamant about being the only one worthy of the name. I’ve thought about that a lot. Like A LOT. I used to assess my worth relative to my ability to get one. There is that word again, relative. I’m worthy cause I have a partner, a spouse, a child. I’m worthy cause I conform to the norm. Well, I’m not. I don’t.

I don’t have a spouse, instead I have 2 partners in crime. I don’t have a child, instead I have people that look up at me, that learn from me and what I have to offer. I don’t have some in-laws, instead I have people who will share with me the biggest moments of their lives, both good and bad. 

I choose not to be defined by what I don’t have, and might not have ever, but instead by what I do have. You can call them friends, colleagues, acquaintances. It’s all relative, isn’t it? So, I call them my big, great family. And everyone can be part of it. You just need to show up.