I No Longer Believe In What I Want

I want a family more than anything.

People or even one person who’s literally or even figuratively by my side forever, supporting me and what I pursue, loving me no matter how I change throughout my life.  Not trying to control or alter that growth, but watching me choose, and coming along wherever those choices take me.  There during the hard times, to remind me of how far I’ve come; and they know it too, because they’ve seen it with their own eyes…..

I no longer believe this is possible for me.

There absolutely are people whom I love that love me too, and because of what they have done, whether it was sending me a Facebook message or taking me in: I wouldn’t be here without them.

I am not writing this to discredit anything that others have done for me — in fact, those that have helped are all the more incredible, as their acts of love weren’t due to familial obligation — I just need to change my mindset; what it is that I wish for.

For a long time, I was hoping someone would make me a part of their family.  When I moved out here, I thought that was the case, that I was being taken in by a family, who had referred to me as their fourth daughter.  They would let their children stay with them as long as they needed, continuing to love them even after they moved out. I assumed that the same offer was being extended to me.  It wasn’t; I was asked to leave, and haven’t heard from them since.

I can’t be upset, because taking me in at all was kind.  In that time, I was able to find my footing in a new city, I was well fed, and it was a brief period where I wasn’t alone.  I am grateful.

My mistake was in assuming.  Assuming how long I could stay, and that calling me their forth daughter meant their love would last.  I assumed I had found my family.  And it was that assumption that made it hurt.

I made the mistake, once again, of thinking a family had decided to keep me.   I need to let that go.  I can still be grateful for any piece of love, without hoping it’ll come again.

It’s not like anyone promised to love me forever.

Well.

A few did.  Three promised they were my family.  To be here for the ride, never letting go.

This year they all let go.  And they were joined by others; I’ve lost about a person a week since I was in the hospital. And I can’t feel betrayed, as they were kind enough to shared their love with me at one point.

Still I was crushed.  I still am. 

And in order to prevent hurting again as much as I have this year, I have to stop trying to fit into people’s families, or taking people in as my own.  I can still love and be loved, but I can’t rely on that love always being here.

So no more wishing for a family, or a guardian angel to come along and magically make my life easier.  I’ve been on my own for six years now; and I need to accept that it isn’t going to change.  Just like my Crohn’s Disease isn’t going to go away, my familial circumstances aren’t either.  I have to accept that this battle is mine to fight alone, and if I fail, it’s only on me to fix it.

In some ways this will make me appreciate love even more. When I stumble upon help or love I’ll be endlessly grateful; but I won’t be shocked when that love moves on.  I won’t feel as crushed as I was when I lost my family.

Fortunately, it’ll be a long time before I see someone that way again.