As a child, I remember being religiously told by adults, “Hayaan mo na. Kamag-anak mo pa rin yan kahit ano mangyari,” or something along those lines.
These types of statements were like a family mantra always uttered by my kin. Thus, for ages, I always thought that family is everything and that no matter what happens, even if the world is at the brink of its end, family is still family. And while this is technically true, we ought to ask ourselves— Must we really tolerate everything our people do to us simply because they are our “family?” Do we really need to maintain toxic family connections just because we are related by blood? And do people really need to be of blood relations to be considered as family?
Growing up, I actually had an extremely romanticized impression on what and how a family should be; thinking that I should always be there to support my relatives, that I should be respectful towards my elders at all times, and that I should always, and I really mean always, be gracefully understanding of any error done on my part by a relative.
For years, I did not see the fatal flaw in this belief (or maybe I really knew, but just chose not to acknowledge it); instead, I actually lived by it. I was the kid who kept her mouth shut during a family gathering when my pompous and narcissistic uncle was being a prick because bastos ka ‘pag sumagot ka. I was the kid who was told not to interfere because they reasoned out: bata ka pa lang, wala ka pang alam. I was the kid that was scolded when I voiced out my buried sentiments because for them, it was impossible that someone young like me had any burden in life; ang bata mo pa, wala ka pang totoong problema. I was the kid who was taught to forget the misdeeds of family members even when no forgiveness was asked because matagal na ‘yon, hindi ka dapat nagtatanim ng sama ng loob.
For a while, I guess I was sort of okay with this kind of set up because I simply had no choice but to oblige. Little did I know, piece by piece, this environment was slowly eating me away; like a hard candy slowly crumbling into brittles. But I had to keep up with appearances, that’s why I continued acting as if nothing was ever wrong, pretending as if I was not feeling dejected. I have to admit, it took me a while to fully see how problematic this setting was, and how it was greatly affecting me, and so I struggled. I struggled in breaking this toxic habitual thinking that family will always be family. I struggled in breaking this generational curse. And I definitely struggled in changing my ways.
Let me be clear, I do not disagree with the notion that family is a fundamental part of one’s life because it is indeed significant. Heck, I love my family, ultimately no doubt about that. Be that as it may, I simply realized that, some relatives? Definitely not worth fighting for.
While admittedly, I am still a work in progress in finding the balance between myself and these relations, I now recognize the importance of boundaries. I now understand that it is clearly okay to speak my mind against overbearing relatives, especially when taking the right stand (of course while still remaining my composure). I now realize that respect certainly begets respect, and that respect is not due just because someone is a relative and is older. I now know that it is absolutely okay to cut off toxic family members for the sake of my well-being. But most importantly, I understand now that family does not necessarily need to be a blood relative; family can be anyone. Family can be strangers turned into loved ones who stand by you, love you, and never betray you. And that is the beauty of growing up— as we explore and meet new people, we get to choose our new family.
Definitely, I owe it to myself (just like how you owe it to yourself) to choose my inner peace over dreadfully maintaining unhealthy familial relations just for the sake of looking proper to others. This time, I choose me. Ngayon, sarili ko naman ang iintindihin ko… ako naman muna.
