This past week, a cousin of my partner passed away from cancer. Starting Saturday, we entered a busy time of picking up family from the airport, traveling to the funeral location, and wrapped up today as we transported my partner's mom back to the airport.
As I reflect on the weekend, I am thankful for his family, for they have become my family as well. Since coming out in August of 2009, my father and two brothers have stopped talking to me. The relationship with my mom has been conflictual at best. She reminds me regularly her and my dad believe I am going to hell. She also breaks down in tears for "what I did to them".
I used to be the "golden child" in my family: the most educated, the most successful, the pride of grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, etc. Now in my family, I am the name that is not spoken, the person who doesn't receive birthday cards or holiday wishes, and the official "black sheep" whispered about at family gatherings.
My partner's family has now become my family, and as my relationship with his family has grown so has my general mental health. It is a difficult thing to be cut off from one's biological family. I didn't fully realize until recently how damaging the rift between me and my family has been to my emotional well being.
In order to move forward, I have had to allow myself to grieve the loss of my family. I have been able to accomplish this by embracing my "new" family. In this family, my relationship with my partner is respected; even by those who don't agree religiously or morally with homosexuality.
I know I am blessed, for many in my position would not be as fortunate in inheriting a surrogate family. This reality has caused me to consider how lonely it must be for many LGBT without the support of those who were trusted to be a safe haven growing up.
To my new family: I love you, I cherish you and I am proud to call you my own.
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