Blood might be thicker than water but...

Family is at times hard to deal with. Relationships take work. I'm sure we've all had our fair share of ups and downs, fights, apologizes and forgiveness's when it comes to family matters. But, what is Family? We all have our own definition. A social definition we as a community accept is of people bound by blood. I don't believe in being bound to those you share blood with. Family has nothing to do with blood for me. We all have our stories and experiences that have defined what family means to us and what family is. Today, I've decided to share a bit of mine. Why? Because these so-called blood relatives are annoying and you don't get to use me or my name without my permission. Regardless of who you are. Also because, I want to amplify the fact that the old definition of family is no longer relevant or applicable in our world. In fact, that's a definition that shouldn't have been applicable to begin with. Love, kindness, caring, all these emotions and more are what binds us to each other. Not blood. At least not in the sense that made the phrase 'blood is thicker than water' exist.

So to change this definition for the better, here's a piece of my life.

I've thought long and hard before writing this. Answered myself on - Why I wanted to write it? Should I share it with the world? Isn't this a bit like hanging out your dirty laundry for the world to see? This is what my view on dirty laundry is. Wash it, dry it, fold it and be done. If it can't be washed hence moved on from, still no point in hiding it. It'll just make the whole house stink. It's just better to air it out and let it go. This is me doing bit of washing, airing and letting go. 

Recently a cousin (one of my Dad's sisters' daughter) I've never met in my consciousness got married. They sent the invites out and it had my and my sisters name on it, as you can see in the picture. Why? Culturally it's way to say these are the VIPs and we respect them. In this incident, that cultural meaning was used to say, we respect and honour them but they are the ones who don't want to stay in touch with us. When I found out about it from my parents, I was so angry at the absurdity of it all that I couldn't help but laugh. This is what was going through my head in that moment:

"Sure, you (The you here is my Dad's mom and his two sisters) treat my mother as a third class citizen and act elite while she does everything in her power to care for your grand-daughter while trying to fight for justice for the your son who is in jail under false accusations and we are the one's who don't treat you as family. You, who was disappointed that I was born a girl. You, who tried to steal the roof over our heads twice before I could even walking. You, who turned around and got mad at my father for making sure you weren't abused by your in-laws. You, who never laughed, or cried or shared a single story with me all my life. You, you treat us like family and we don't? "

See, I've never even met my so-called aunts or their respective families. I was in fourth grade when I met my Grandmother. It was two meetings in total. In the first, I hoped she'd let bygones be bygones and let us care for her. I just didn't want her to suffer abuse at my aunt's house or live alone in her old age. The second meeting, she asked me for the impossible and I realized she wasn't worth calling family. Grandmothers aren't supposed to ask their nine year old grandchildren to abandon their morality, ethics and principles in life but teach them to hold on to them and protect them from the world. My grandmother didn't just ask me to ditch mine, she asked me to persuade my parents to ditch theirs as well. She tried using 'family' as a bargaining chip to be family. That was the point I realized blood had nothing to do with family. I may know her, but she didn't even care to get to know me. Had she tried to listen who her granddaughter was, she would have known my biggest inspiration at the time were Chotte Shabizade. Two kids who gave their lives to stand up for their principles. There never was a point in asking me to abandon mine.

However what I did abandon, was the notion of blood relations and the societies idea of family. In our last meeting I told her she wasn't part of my family. I, as a nine year old, disowned my grandmother. It sound satirical, doesn't it? But I still stand by my decision. Young I might have been and a sentimental fool I might always be, but I've trusted my instinct all my life and it's never lead me to regret. I read people quick and I read people well. I build my family on that instinct, most of which I don't share a drop of blood with. And it's a family that will always back me up, build me and let me know their honest opinion when they find me unreasonable. It's a family bound by love. Not blood. And if you are wondering how can a nine year old be sure of her decision, here are the reasons why.

I'm one of the youngest members of the "blood-bound" family on my Dads' side. Yet, I can guarantee you, from our generation I am the one who knows the most about our ancestry and family. About how everyone who is gone was like and what everyone who is alive is like.  Even though I am also the one who has met the least members of this family, I know the truths and lies of their lives the most. I was a curious child born with the strangest heart. I craved to know and understand every connection in the world I was remotely connected to. I'd been through every family document my dad had and asked a million question regarding each family member, their life and a plethora of documents in his library before I was eight. I still ask a million questions because I know I wasn't told certain things as completely back then because I was young. And I didn't just ask my parents, I've collected this knowledge from every relative I ever met. Every person I ever met who ever knew any of them. I've combed through our history and walked through the abandon streets members of this family once resided in. I've collected every version of every incident from every single person I could. I probably will continue to do so my entire life. Just think, if I was able to get my parent to tell me the abuse my mother went through at my grandmother and aunts hands, if I knew the abuse my grandmother and aunt had gone through and were going through at my aunt's in-laws home, if I knew the torture that caused my Grandpa's death in the 80's, what did I not know?

There's a saying that heart break leads to creativity. I wrote my first poem when I was seven. Looking back I realize, I was just as strong as I was curious. Family is hard to deal with at times. Emotion are messy. Still, you can get through it all because it's family. But, family is only family when you share feelings and are bound by those emotions. Blood might be thicker than water but, emotions are what create unbreakable bonds. Don't let the society fool you. Regardless of who gave birth to whom leading to your existence, toxicity is not an emotion to form relationships with. Love in one's soul can't trump the abuse in another's heart. You can persevere with the love in your heart however, you may have to let go of people trying to tangle you in their negativity. Lift them up if you can, let them go if they don't want to rise. It's better than drowning yourself in their sorrow. Because if you drown with them, not only do you lose your chance to rise but more so the chance to lift others who would have given you a boost in life too. Don't let a handful of toxic relatives ruin a life you haven't yet built. Remember this - the whole world is your family and you have the choice to spend your energy where it can grow. Hope, love and dream. Dream of the world you want to be in and create that. Pretence of others will eventually fade away. So, hope love and dream.