On Choosing Family

by LivingWicked on February 21, 2013

family

An important person in my life said to me a couple of weeks ago “you don’t get to choose your family”.

It has resonated with me since our conversation because of the current life events that surround my Wicked existence. It has been on repeat in my head because that is not how I was raised. Many of you will probably disagree with me to the core of your moral codes, and that is okay. I am pretty sure that my husband does too, and that has been cause for many heated discussions in the recent months.

If that is the case, let us shake hands and agree to disagree. Or, you can fuck right off. Your choice.

Misc-FuckOff

I was raised not really knowing a larger portion of my mom’s side of the family. With the exception of my moms mom and her sister, the rest of the family were absent from my childhood. I have met them a couple of times, but for the most part there wasn’t really any sort of effort on either side of the coin to have anything to do with me or my brother for that matter. I couldn’t tell you half of their names. I honestly could give less than a fuck if I ever had any sort of connection with them. It is nothing against them personally, it is more that I am on the cusp of 34 years old, and I am honestly uninterested in making the effort. As callous as that may sound, my childhood memories reside with my dads side of the family. As many of you know, my grandparents were my heroes. It wasn’t a very big family dynamic – but the love was enough to pass through 100 second cousins.

This is different than the way my husband was raised. He grew up with a copious amount of family members on both his moms and his dads side. Every reunion I have been to overwhelms me a great deal. They all just kind of deal with the amount of drama that comes with all of the personalities. I have found myself thinking that I simply just would not deal with it, if it were me – and I find myself wondering why anyone ever would …

“you can’t choose your family.”

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I call bullshit. I say that you absolutely CAN choose your family and I DO choose my family. No one is perfect. We all have things that annoy the people who we interact with on a daily basis. Those are not the things I am talking about in choosing family.

I am talking about selfish, manipulative, inconsiderate, assholish things. Just because you are “family”, doesn’t mean you get to be disrespectful. Just because you are “family”, you don’t get to take advantage. I don’t give a fuck if you are my sister, or my 12th cousin thrice removed – if you blatantly try and manipulate me or mine – I choose not to fuck with you any longer. End of discussion.

I refuse to allow people to use the excuse of “oh that is just my cousin so’n'so – she is just like that.” I could give a prostitute fuck if you are related by blood. You don’t get to treat people that way. Family or Foe. I have acquaintances who treat me better than that!

As this statement has repeated in my thoughts eleventy times a day for the past few weeks, and as D and I have discussed our differences in opinion on the statement and the circumstances surrounding it, the more I stand behind the fact that I not only disagree wholeheartedly with the statement, but I will never alter my beliefs to conform to such bullshit – and, in the end I HAVE chosen my family.

Mine consists of people who are not related by anything other than commonalities in how to love, respect and regard each other. Some are blood – but the majority are not. I am perfectly happy with the choices I have made in the people I refer to as my awesomely dysfunctional family.


What say you on the statement?

{ 8 comments }

Open Letter Blog Because Tara Made Me.

by LivingWicked on December 14, 2012

I know it has been awhile, but Tara Jean seems to think that I need to do an open letter blog. Maybe?

Shut up.

Ken Adams,

You know what? Fuck your face. As happy as I am that you are all nestled in some “flat” with a “view”, you need to come home and bring your baby with you. K? K. Also, you can SYFUYOA (that is from me and Tara, BTW)

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Dear Fat Lebanese Princess,

I wish that you would fall off of your fucking throne, right on to your fat ass because you are not better than anyone else on this planet. Just because you think you are, doesn’t mean it is true. Leave me alone and quit being so jealous of me and my mans penis that created this baby girl that you so desperately wanted but can’t have because KARMA HATES YOU for being a cuntface.

That’s why your clients hate you.

Love,

Tara
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Dear Wesley Scroogestien (Yes that is the Jewish Scrooge name)

You are a fucking asshole. All of the time. Why don’t you, just like Ken Adams go and shove your entire fist up your own ass for a change? Your fist will fit in your ass because I saw you do it one time. Also, don’t make a Christmas list if you are a fucking Bah Humbug assholeface about the holiday itself. We know that you secretly love Christmas SO much that you want to fuck it, and when you and Tara have the baby you will be the fattest, jolliest, ho-ho-hoiest Santa there is in the whole world. And it will be a RED Santa suit, too because Santa doesn’t wear blue, cuzz.

Also, don’t be a dick. All the time. And, no one wants you to pee on them, or pee on you for that matter. Not in the shower, or on the stairs or even in the truck because that is weird. \

Lastly, I did not do that one time, no matter what delusional fantasy you had about me doing it. Whiskey is not your friend and I was just wondering if you would crawl around on the floor and “RAWR” at the cats just one more time.

Love, Courtni

p.s. I bought you a red present because red is for love and all I ever do is love you.
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Dear Person Who Shall Remain Nameless 1,

Fuck your face. You lazy, halfassed, piece of shit motherfucker. You are dirty, smelly and I bet your balls smell like cheese. If your surround sound wakes me the fuck up, I am going to stab you in your motherfucking eye and your ears so you can’t even hear it anymore. How’s that for going deaf?

I wish you would stop being such a fuck. All the time. Furthermore, maybe you should try being a parent one time. Your kid might appreciate it. Or not. Whatever.

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Dear Person Who Shall Remain Nameless 2,

I wish that you weren’t such a pain in my ass so that I could like you because you aren’t that bad of a person when you actually come out of your cave and participate in live. I also think you could do a better for yourself in all of the ways. Like job, significant other, etc.

Stop being lazy.

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Dear Christmas,

Are you over yet? I am not excited for you at all this year. If I didn’t have kids, I would sleep through it. Tara would like to mention that people piss her off every year and also the money is bullshit.

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Dear Baby,

When you get here, I am going to squeeze your little face off. And, because I probably won’t ever get any nieces and nephews any other way – you are like the most important baby ever in the history of babies, other than my own babies.

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Dear Me,

At some point, you will be happy. Being angry and bitter will only get you so far.

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Dear Overcompensation for Lack of Parenting,

I hope a squirrel pops out and scares you like National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. Even though you are so big, you aren’t better than mine or anyone elses. You are bare and lacking the love and memories that are supposed to go with you. I am sorry that you are being used as a pawn, but I secretly hate you and wish you would die in a fire.

At the end of the day, I will always win because I don’t use material things as pawns for love.

So, yeah.

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And you don’t get any eye candy because I am mad at the world.

You know what to do. Or don’t. Whatever.

{ 3 comments }

Pretty Words

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