It is my belief that family, those who we grew up with or were raised by, are not here for us to help them. It is my belief that they are here for us to help ourselves.
I’ve tried so many times, too many to count, to reconcile with my parents. I’ve tried too many times to raise my brother. I’ve tried too many times to create a household of peace for everyone.
I’ve been an unnecessary martyr for too long, to no true and good end. My parents are the same, albeit a little more understanding and space-giving. My brother will continue to seek his ways. The household will continue to be as it is.
And all the time I had been pursuing Good for others, I was overlooking every opportunity to become myself the Good I was looking for.
It wasn’t until I came into my own that I was able to experience reconciliation, freedom of Being with my family.
I am not my family’s keeper. I am not their savior. I am not their anything.
I am Me. They are Them.
I am a human, a soul, just like they are. Just. Like. They. Are.
I am doing my best, the best I know how. They are doing the same.
I am not responsible for anyone other than me. I know now, what society has taught me about family responsibilities is well-intended, but purposed to serve the preservation of society itself, not necessarily the betterment of each person, human, and soul, and consequently, the people around them, their families.
Years after this realization came several years ago, I’m beginning to see how it all works out. No, I’m not throwing my parents away. No, I haven’t cut ties with them. No, I’m not devoid of the desire for better health and comfort and living for them.
It works out in the way that I can be me and do me in a freer way. It works out in a way that I’m not haunted by expectations and shaking of heads.
If you know what I’m talking about, you know what I’m talking about. I get you. I really do.