Freedom vs. Family

The ancient Romans originally coined the phrase “lucky bastard”. In their strict patriarchal society, to be free of the yoke of “filial piety” had great advantages, even if that meant you couldn’t inherit anything. Likewise, I consider myself extremely fortunate to finally be free from a family. 

I wasn’t always free. My body was born like other biological entities of this earth, and like most others, I was forced to dwell with people whose bodies were biologically related to my body. It was better than the alternative  —  starving and dying and stuff. I really was grateful to have had food, shelter, and a high school education. 

However, those people with whom I was forced to dwell – I don’t call them “my” family, as I refuse to identify with them – were ignorant, toxic and abusive. The closed-minded rural community surrounding us was far worse: hostile, racist, sexist and fanatically religious. I wouldn’t have wanted to have known any of those people, if I'd had any choice. I didn’t like them, and I certainly didn’t love them. And, I'm sure, if they had known me, they would have felt the same way. 

Familial love and approval felt filthy to me. I fought to isolate myself, to be left alone. I kept my mouth shut and tried not to be noticed. I wore a “mask” to avoid relentless harassment and hostility – the likely outcome if I had voiced any personal view. 

I did not want conversion therapy to make me "normal and right". I did not want strange religious rituals performed on me. Those people believed that people could be “forced” to believe, “shown” that they could be “made” to conform and that violence was the solution to most interpersonal problems. I was afraid they would take my mind and free will away from me. I didn't want to be like them. It was my worst fear. They disgusted me horribly. (And I value being able to form a clear, unbiased perspective.)

I did this for nearly twenty-five years – instead of growing up and developing as a person. I am grateful that at least, I avoided assimilating into that “culture” and environment. 

As much as I resented having to live with them (and I did, deeply, from my earliest memories), I did not want another family. Other families (those of my classmates or on television) seemed even more invasive, suffocating and controlling than the one I was dealing with. I wanted only the practical benefits which the family (ideally) brings: food, shelter, healthcare, education, protection from sexual predators, and just enough discipline to keep me away from drugs. A boarding school (with zero, or minimal, contact with biological relatives) might have been ideal for me. I had always dreamed of that. 

I don’t mean any disrespect toward those who have lived this way and would have preferred a family. Everyone is different. Everyone has different needs, priorities and values. I need lots of personal space, freedom, independence and something to be excited about, in order to thrive – and family, as a concept, seems to be the antithesis of that. Some people need deep emotional connections. I recognize that  there is a great value in that, but I need to cast my net vast and wide. Shared ideas and new perspectives are important to me; constant discussion and abstract intellectual stimulation. Security is another important thing, but now I find that I greatly prefer freedom and mobility. I fear stagnation.  

I craved freedom. I also wanted connection and guidance – to learn from other people, to share and interact , but not in a “family” way. I needed distance and respectful treatment – which every human being deserves.  Small, enmeshed, closed-off groups give me the creeps. It is denigrating and dehumanizing to have to have to sacrifice our identities and conform. 

I ask myself who I could have been without “family” —  who would I have been without their nasty influence twisting my mind? Who would I have been if I could have lived in a city, with the opportunities and resources to develop myself? And more importantly, independence from “family”? There had been no possibility to walk anywhere from the house, no public transportation, and cell phones didn't work for miles – that's how rural it was. 

What if I had made some like-minded friends with whom I could have been authentic, rather than having to hide all of my true thoughts and beliefs, suffocating under the constant fear of being “outed” in every aspect of life in which I did not conform to the extremists around me – as a skeptic, environmentalist, anti-gun, anti-violence, liberal, non-heterosexual, xenophile amidst xenophobes? I even had to hide my healthy lifestyle (healthy diet, regular exercise, normal hygiene), or I would have been harassed about it. 

What if I could have studied at a university? Not having done so is my biggest regret. I blame the “family” for sabotaging this, but maybe I could have found a way around them if I had tried harder? I was too afraid. I was (and am) afraid of not being able to take care of my basic needs, of starving, being without shelter —  a fear they instilled strongly in me, alongside immense self doubt. 

At the age of twenty-three – and that is a lot of empty miserable years – I finally met someone (online) with a similar background; who, despite living in a city, hadn’t managed to escape from a toxic and controlling family either. Learning about each other and our experiences helped us understand ourselves and unravel the toxic entanglements. It took us several years, but with each other’s help, we both managed to escape to a place far away, where we now live in a very unconventional queer-platonic, quasi-romantic, aegosexual relationship. I finally have someone in my life with whom I can share, be close to, and be myself. I am seen for my soul and not as a mere physical presence. 

We are not “family”. I won’t tarnish what we are with that noxious label. 

I have been completely free from all contact with those people for many years, and I have taken every measure possible to remain free from all contact. I have never missed any member of that “family unit” from which I escaped. I have, however, grieved the person I should have been. Only now, free from them, and after some years of recovery,  can I finally start to get to know her, become her. My inner self can finally start to breathe, live and grow. I am so grateful to be free from “family”. The joy and satisfaction of this is indescribable.