Brian and I don't really talk much about family on here. Sure there's the occasional dig at the filthy, manipulative cunt-basket that my wife clawed herself out of in infancy. And every once in a while I'll write an unintelligible screed about the poor fucks who don't understand about genitals. But actual discussion of family is pretty limited. Now, this is partially because, with the noted exception of my father, we've all pretty much cut ties with our families. I'm not going to talk about the reasons for that, less because it isn't any of your fucking business what kind of shitty people spawned us and more because it would be an almost tragically short post. Instead, I going to talk about the other reason we don't talk about it much. Those people aren't really family.
I'm not talking about some kind of cultish, "We're your family now; here's your 'punch'", kinda thing. I do legitimately value the concept of family, a group of people upon whom you are supposed to be able to intrinsically rely, I just feel like that structure is entirely too important to be left to the capriciousness of fate. In my experience the people who share your blood are more likely to be the people to fuck you over hardest, both because they have the access and because you're less likely to be truly prepared for it. The worst bit is that most of the time the "family" that ruins you doesn't even understand the damage they've done. Because being betrayed or used by blood isn't just your casual exploitation, its your framework for society. If you can't trust your relatives then what chance does some fucking stranger have? No, fuck that. We all need a support network and sharing a sexually viable ancestor at whatever point in history is presently convenient is an insufficient metric by which to organize.
Beyond that is the question of affection. If I'm going to trust someone enough to turn to them in my time of strife I'd really rather actually like that person. I make it a policy not to go out of my way to deal with people I don't enjoy in general, and that goes double for people I'm related to. Life is too short and too unpredictable to devote time and effort to maintaining relationships with people you don't like.
I recently had a transaction with a man I've met fewer times than I have fingers who was my mother's brother. I'm ambivalent about him, but I dislike his SO in a fashion so natural and effortless that it would literally take me more effort to not give a fuck. He was gobstruck that not only is this an acceptable standpoint to me (me! this man he'd met a few times years ago, the scandal of it), but that I didn't feel as though it should have a meaningful effect on either of our lives. We hadn't spoken to each other in years and had never shared an experience more significant than eating in the same building, if it wasn't for the fact that the alcoholic racist that raised him also raised one of the people who raised me I wouldn't even be expected to remember his name. Much less give a fuck about his wife.
We've chosen, instead of all that bullshit, to be adults and make the hard choices. To decide who to care about and to make the effort to nourish those relationships to the point where those people aren't just worthy of the trust we're putting in them, they extend the same trust in return. There might not be as many of us, but we love each other. Not because of what some relative strangers did to each other before we existed, but because we found people who we wanted to share that with.
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