Where We Stand

I used to understand what family meant when I was younger. 

The way I saw it, everyone knew. Family represented the epitome of love, acceptance, and safety. 

I think I still have that. I always hope to find sanctuary in their arms. But, I’m not always sure that I will. 

People say everyone’s family is a little dysfunctional. Somehow it always feels like there’s a force trying to pull us apart. 

It doesn’t make sense, but they continue to make me feel safe. 

I still love my family, I’m just not sure if they want me anymore. 

What happens when a part of your identity blocks you from the safety of your family? 

What does safety look like when family becomes confining? 

You realize the love is still there, as long as part of you changes. 

Be less queer. Be less queer. Be less queer. 

Have more faith in the Lord. 

Have less emotion, but express emotion more. 

Speak your mind,

but be wary if it contradicts an elder. 

I watched everyone act like a teenager in high school, so why couldn’t I do the same? 

The generational curse of being in an immigrant family is always being expected to grow up, but having adults treat you like children concurrently. 

I will never say I don’t love being around my family; I do. 

My family is overflowing with resilience, boldness, beauty and unapologetic, strong women who taught me culture, what love feels like even if it’s not apparent, and how to find happiness through difficult times. 

They taught me how to fly when everyone else expected my failure.  

Family can feel fractured at times, but all wounds take time to heal, and eventually they do heal. 

The feeling of sanctuary may shift over time, but no matter what, family can and will prevail.