When Blood Isn’t Enough: Redefining Family

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It’s always easier for some people to point fingers at you, to mock you, to laugh at your lowest moments. And often, the ones doing this are the very people we call “family.” 

According to Merriam-Webster, one definition of family is “a group of persons of common ancestry.” Sounds simple, right? But if you’re reading this, you’re probably rolling your eyes like, “Please, tell me something I don’t already know.” And you’re right, we all have relatives. None of us got to choose them. It just… is. 

Relatives shape us in countless ways. They raise us, guide us, teach us, influence us sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. We pick up their habits without even realizing it. We develop attachments, we say we love them, and when that love is healthy, it’s a beautiful thing. Having people to call “family” can be one of life’s greatest blessings. 

But here’s the truth: not every relative is family. 

Maybe it’s that older cousin who bullied you growing up. That aunt who never missed a chance to talk badly about you. That uncle who swore you’d never finish high school. The grandmother who withheld love because she didn’t like who your mom or dad married. Or maybe it’s that distant relative who crossed boundaries and left you carrying scars. 

Many of us know people like this. And we were taught to love and respect them anyway. But the hard truth? They don’t deserve you. 

They hurt you in the very moments they were supposed to protect you. And if you hold on to them, you’ll never fully heal. They’ll keep you tied to the version of yourself they’ve decided you’ll always be the “messy kid,” the “slow learner,” the “failure.” They refuse to see the healed, thriving, powerful version of you. Why? Because if they did, they’d have to look at themselves, and that’s something they won’t do. 

So, it becomes your job to move on. Not out of hate, but out of love for yourself. For your peace. For your future. Yes, they might have done some good, but that doesn’t erase the discomfort, the anxiety, the weight you feel in your chest every time their name comes up. 

No family is perfect. But as you heal, surround yourself with the ones who truly care, the ones whose presence brings warmth, love, and encouragement. Blood alone doesn’t make someone family. Compassion does. Kindness does. Support does. 

A shared ancestor is not a free pass to your heart. Let the ones who uplift you in and leave the rest where they are. 

Less mockery. More love.