Relative Something

Thinking about family has me remembering a period of feeling disconnected from my family of origin. When we would gather for holidays or family events, I found myself feeling out of the mix, like oil and water. Topics of conversation, attitudes about the world, parenting styles, life choices of behavior and activity, all seemed to clash with my perspectives at the time. Either as a result of how this made me feel, or because the same feeling wasn’t occurring when I was involved in activities with my wife’s family, I was finding it more comfortable to be with the family I married into.

It didn’t last. However, one factor during that time related to my feeling disconnected, was some self-examination I was doing that involved my father. I had recently identified that depression was a contributor to my less than ideal life experience and one very vivid demonstration of it manifest in my behavior with my wife and children that mirrored how my father behaved. I was finding myself developing an adult life that patterned right off the one in which I grew up. It actually felt quite natural. It wasn’t anything I had to learn, it was how I already, inherently knew how to behave. But it was imperfect, and I label it as dysfunctional. To behave differently was something that I would need to learn.

One of the facets of that learning involved recognition. It created a conflict in me when I was amid my family of origin, as I struggled to recognize signs and interplay that were once invisible to me, and identify my reactions and my role in it all. At the time that I was trying to change my thinking and how I interpreted the world around me, I seemed to struggle the most when I was with my family of origin. In hindsight, that doesn’t surprise me at all. I believe that as I change myself, others eventually change their interactions with me and that may be part of why I don’t feel uncomfortable around my family of origin now. That, and the fact that I have had more time refining my role of practicing better mental health in my own head.

There is something oh-so-pleasing about rediscovering your own people. I don’t remember the specific incidence, but I definitely had a distinct “aha” moment of recognition that there were others who are more like me than anyone else I’ve met, and they are my siblings. I am a Hays. Regardless any differences we may have, there are basic characteristics that form the foundations of who we each are. Any time I have had a bit too much exposure of other people’s families, I now know that I just need to get together with my siblings and find connections with someone who deep down shares an entirely unique bond with me. It allows me always to remember how lucky I am to have family.