Yes, you get to choose
“Family” is an interesting word, with more baggage than most people realize. Wrapped up in those six letters are things like biology, culture, legalities, love, guilt, obligation, responsibility, and probably many more words with various and significant implications of their own.
One of the words that you don’t hear as much is “choice”. It’s a concept I’ve come to embrace over the years, and especially in the last few weeks.
When I was lying on the ground, Joo introduced herself to the paramedics as my daughter. She adopted us as her “American parents” maybe 20 years ago, immediately using the term liberally. Most who hear it probably assume we’ve legally adopted her, which isn’t the case. It’s a relationship of choice.
- It’s not biological.
- It’s not legal.
- It’s a choice.
For years, I had difficulty calling her daughter because I’m a silly, pedantic engineer, and without blood or paperwork, it just didn’t feel right.
If you’ve read the story, you’ll understand why I fully embrace the term now. Joo is my daughter, by choice. By her choice, by my choice, by whatever it is that brought us together (technically collectible dolls, but that’s a story for another day).
Kathleen’s in a similar situation, albeit perhaps a little more light-hearted.
It started as misidentification. While my mom was in the hospital (also over 20 years ago), we would visit, of course. One day, a nurse told her that she’d just missed her brother. That would be me. Kathleen’s family runs taller, and the assumption is an easy one to make based on appearances.
So, we’ve run with it more or less ever since — accidental sister, now by choice.
The choices aren’t limited to those without any connection. When we reconnected years ago, my now late cousin and I quickly realized that we were closer to siblings than anything else. Over the years, a niece has become the closest thing to a daughter we never had, and one that I’d, again, choose to be so in a heartbeat.
Of course, choice works both ways. There are biological family members who we no longer consider to be family in any practical sense. Yes, there’s blood and paperwork, but nothing that really makes the relationship one of family.
I think this is where people first run into the concept of “family of choice”; when they find themselves in situations where the relationship is toxic or damaging or otherwise unhealthy. The mental shift to “not my family” can be a very healthy reaction to preserving mental health and well-being for yourself and those you choose to retain.
What takes longer to grasp is that just as you can choose to exclude, you can choose to include.
Yes, you can choose your friends and acquaintances, as you always have, I’m sure. But there’s something significant when some cross the threshold into the category of “family”.
It’s something significant I wish I’d learned to embrace sooner.
Embrace your family-by-choice.
One implication you made, but didn’t call out specifically, is that you can be much closer, in many respects, to members of a chosen family than by-blood family members. That has implications around loyalty, whether you’d “drop everything” to come to their aid, etc. It’s OK, even healthy, to get distance, especially when a relationship is toxic. I’d even argue that there’s no duty to care for “family” members one is estranged from. It can be an emotional rift inside to make such a decision, but giving yourself such permission is reasonable.