Being Loved and Feeling Loved are Different Things
“I love you” isn’t always enough.
I don’t talk to my family. This is something that I write about so often that the story doesn’t necessarily bear repeating. However, I want to talk about one particular piece of that history with this article.
Well before my family trouble started, as in upwards of a decade, I was already feeling the split coming. I simply didn’t feel like I was a good fit for my family. I was a black sheep, plain and simple, and the act of putting on my mask to go to family holidays every year was already starting to wear on me.
Because my father was the strongest figure in my life, I talked to him about it. I confided in him that I didn’t feel like a good fit for my family, that I felt uncomfortable at family gatherings, didn’t care for the drinking and loud gatherings, and tended to get overloaded easily.
My father, in his best attempt to reassure me, told me that my concerns weren’t a big deal. “Your family loves you,” he said. “I love you, your mother and sister love you, your grandma loves you, and all of your aunts, uncles, and cousins love you.” The message was crystal clear: my family loved me, so of course I fit in. I was family, and family loves each other.
