I love betraying my family. Lately I betray them with my transness. Oh, so you think I’m a girl? Some people have known me since I was born, but they never knew me.
In the past I’ve betrayed my family by…
- moving away
- divorcing my first husband, when they all did not divorce
- divorcing my second husband!
- not being Christian
- not having kids
- psychiatric diagnoses
- being the fattest
- admitting I’m disabled, when I was supposed to lie forever
- going to grad school
- being a confusing contradiction…
They want to say I’m bad, but I’m actually good! I’m creative, changing, and probably happier than all of them. How much easier it would be, if they could dismiss me. But I stay out of jail, and in my own disabled, low income way, I thrive.
Probably they don’t know I’m anarchist or what that really means. But they can tell I’m not trying to solve my problems like they are: by making money and buying things.
discomfort
I love betraying my family of origin because they need a heroic dose of discomfort. Otherwise there’s no chance of them creating their own transformation. They need to see that other ways of being are possible. Who better to show them than me, the black sheep they can count on for unconventional behavior?
My family of origin taught me repression and to hate myself for my fatness. They are self-loathing about pleasure. They hate the body. For some decades, I obeyed.
These days I say, “Fuck no,” to their boring values. I will never live like that anymore. They don’t get me validating their narrative–they get my resistance.
Betraying them is a way of loving them, or I can see it that way. They didn’t ask me to be an example, but what am I on earth for? I love them in the only ways I can. They look to me for betrayal, if they look at me at all. Might as well.
actual family
My chosen family is my actual family these days. I don’t want to betray them– I adore them. They keep me safe and well.
Also, they don’t need betraying. Our values are mostly shared, respectful, and in a state of change and refinement together. We talk every day, make decisions together, ask each other, “What should I do?” and “How do you really feel about that?”
Recently I asked my chosen family member questions about my well-being in relationship. I’d written down questions on a piece of paper and answered them first for myself, trying to clarify what I’ve been confused about.
Then I asked the questions of my chosen family member.
- How much are people allowed to hurt me in relationship?
- Can I let go of my need for control?
- How much relationship stress can I tolerate?
- Does God have a plan for us?
plan
“Does God have a plan for me and you?” my dear one asked.
“No, I meant me and the person in question,” I said. “I know God has a plan for us! We’re living it!”
“Yessss!” my dear one said.
There’s nothing to rebel against because we let each other in and communicate. My chosen family is my dream come true.
I love betraying my family
Originally I was lying on a table getting energy work, on a lil spiritual journey, when the idea “I love betraying my family” came to mind as a powerful sentence.
Afterward, sitting in a chair back to my regular mentality, I giggled at the phrase. Suddenly I wanted to embroider “I love betraying my family” on everything. But it would be easy for strangers to misunderstand.
Hopefully most people don’t need to betray their families. Hopefully most people were supported and nurtured by the people who signed up to welcome a new life into the world.
Sometimes it’s worth it, to risk being misunderstood. I want to embroider “I love betraying my family” on some fabrics, but I want to embroider “Land back” too.
