My uncle was a convict. My uncle was a frequent escaped convict. My family was proud of his escapades.
I was in kindergarten/first grade when my uncle escaped from prison. He had starved himself and was admitted to the hospital. Security, at that time, was lax and he escaped from there. My aunt was running to join up with him, I believe in California. My biological mother created fake documents including driver's license for her. My biological mother, my aunt, and I went to the airport. First time I had been there and I was lectured on how important it was that we didn't draw attention to ourselves.
I threw up all over that airport. Over and over again. I remember drinking baby apple juice once at home and sleeping until the next evening I was so sick.
Sorry, getting swept away in the memory. This was a defining thing for me for a long time. It was part of my story. My biological mother being deathly afraid of my uncle when he was mad. Hiding things when relatives came to visit so they wouldn't steal things... Being proud of being a criminal. Glorifying it.
Let's change focus for a moment. My beautiful Beardo comes from Railroad men. There is deep, ingrained pride in that. There are museums filled with Watson men working on the railroad. Sorry, Railroad. When Beardo retired from the Army, he poked around with becoming a Railroad man. You could see it was part of his family's identity, but not part of his identity. He was trying to take on someone else's story. He knew it wasn't part of his story, but he still carried guilt over it.
In my early 20s, I had some really powerful healing moments with my biological family. As part of the process, I have chosen to exclude my biological family from my life. They don't define me. They aren't heading in the direction where my life is going. My adopted family is and they provide me with the love and support I need.
Let me continue with this family story and I am hoping that you find it useful. Several years ago, my youngest biological brother was released from prison for attempted murder. He wanted to see me and to hear stories of our childhood. This brother sexually violated my youngest sister. This brother continually made choices that I didn't understand. Hell, my entire biological family continually makes choices that do not move them towards a life they want.
If you want a life of crime, drugs, hatred, and violence... and it makes you deeply happy then go for it. I don't need to include that in my life, but I support your soul work and will do my best to not make an ethical judgment against you.
This is not a vindication story, but a reminder. I received a call last week saying that same brother was apprehended in California after (suspected to have) strangled a woman to death in Washington.
I am still processing this.
I told myself a story of strength, of love for myself through actions that speaks love to others, of resilience, of tenacity. I came from abuse, and poverty, and malnourishment on all levels. Through hard work, I could see a different future for myself than what my biological family had chosen.
What puts blinders on people where they don't see other options available to them?
Wait for it. Here is the profound question: where in my life do I have blinders and I am not seeing the options before me?
You are NOT your family. You are you. You have choices only you can make for yourself. If you don't see options available to you, can you write a story where there are options? What would that look like?
Be the greatest You that you can be!
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