Not My Blood
In San Diego, I soaked in the warm Southern California sun… took leisurely naps by the pool… went surfing for the first time… and hung out with family for an awesome Cousins Weekend.
We laughed, we drank, we relaxed. It was absolutely perfect.
However, the one part I didn’t expect was to find myself reflecting upon two opinions that were shared during the weekend:
- Not wanting to be an older parent
- The difference between blood-family and non-blood family members
I took both comments quite personally, because I was both adopted and raised by an older single parent myself.
For the first comment, I understand the sentiment and preference for wanting to be a younger parent. However, I also think that one should consider more than just age when it comes to becoming a parent. For instance, if you’re worried about a ticking biological clock, just so you know, there are other ways to become a parent (like adoption).
For the second comment, it really stung to hear people say, I don’t need to be in the family pictures because I’m not blood. Or, That’s your family, not mine.
It made me angry and confused.
I thought we were all one family? Shouldn’t we all be in the picture?
For the first time in my life, I quietly observed the dynamics between the in-laws, “blood” relatives, and myself and wondered, what holds our family together? Is it our grandmother? Is it our aunts and uncles? Is it our DNA?
I understand that some of these comments were made with tongue and cheek humor. I know that it’s natural for people to prioritize their kids, their spouses, and their family.
But if DNA dictates loyalty and preference… then where do I fit in?
For a few days after the trip, I felt lost and out of place.
Why did I desire so strongly to take pictures with all of these “DNA strangers”?
If I don’t look like you, then what connection do we share?
OK, maybe this is a little dramatic.
At the end of the day, I know that my family loves me and vice versa.
But maybe this whole distinction by DNA is complete B.S. and totally ridiculous too.
Look at me! My “family” has never shared my DNA and yet we still love each other unconditionally.
In the future, I’m sure opinions like these will arise again. To be honest, I’ll probably get riled up all over again.
For now, this is what I know to be true (for myself):
- There is no expiration date on when you can or should become a parent.
- Family is chosen, not designated by blood.
What do you think?