Family Values

morena (she/her) 

    What makes a family? Each time I think about my own family, I become conflicted. We definitely do not fit the mold of a stereotypical American household. Growing up, it was hard not to feel jealous of other kids that did fit that mold. But now, I don’t think I’m jealous anymore. 

. . .

    There’s six of us. My parents and us girls. My three sisters and I are one year apart each. It was kind of hard not to become close eventually, I mean- we are very similar after all. 

    ​My favorite memories of us, we are all together. The power went out, as it used to a lot. Instead of feeling scared, I felt safe - in between my older sister and younger sisters, bundled up with an ungodly amount of blankets in the living room. Candles burning around us, the familiar tune of Mario Bros in the background. Our mom would help us defeat Bowser on the very last level and my dad would come home from work, tucking us in for bed. We would fall asleep right there on the living room floor. All together. A family. 

. . .

    My older sister really paved the way for me. Only one year older, but so so much more wise. I feel like she has everything figured out already, you know? But she never makes me feel bad about not knowing what I should be doing. She always shows up when I need her, always there to guide me. 

    I think I realized I really looked up to her when I started high school. I was so scared to be one of the big kids, to grow up. Yet, she was there for me. She already made it through the first year of high school, and could show me how to as well. She taught me what the hell an AP class was, how to study for the SAT, how to drive. 

    ​She came out to our parents, to our family before anyone else did. She took the hits so I didn’t have to. She unapologetically decided to be herself without caring what they thought of her. When I look back, I realize how much I wanted to be like her. To be independent, and be confident. 

    Now that I am a little older, I realize that she was just a kid too. She was trying to figure it all out too, but she had the added pressure of three little sisters all looking up at her. Yet, she never complained to us. Even now, she continues to show us around. She’s always there when I need her, and I could not be more lucky to have her. I love her. 

. . .

    My younger sister. We could go weeks without talking yet pick up exactly how we were when we were kids. I could tell her anything, and she doesn’t express an ounce of judgment. Hilarious and stubborn, this kid gives me gray hair. And, I love her. 

    She knows what she wants, and doesn’t wait to get it. That stubbornness is something I’ve always admired, especially when she used it for music. Pursuing music was something that she had an innate talent for, something I could never quite replicate. Playing next to her though, in our school’s orchestra, was incredible. We would get ice cream after, basking in the happiness after a “successful” concert night with only a small dose of chaos. 

    She knows what she wants, and doesn't apologize for it. If she says she loves someone, no amount of judgment will make her stop. She isn’t afraid to be who she is, and I respect the hell out of that.

. . .

    My youngest sister. My safe space, the place I go when I just need to feel normal again. I love her. The little artist of the family, and much more. 
    
    Her laugh is contagious, I swear. She could make the most intense situations feel okay again, just through her presence. Her jokes, her art, and the way she is able to express herself so easily is something that I absolutely admire. Anytime I feel upset, I just hear her voice and I feel a little better. 

    She cares so deeply about us, despite trying (and failing) at hiding it. Every Friday night, she invites us to watch anime together as an excuse to be close. She was there for me after my first breakup with my ex-boyfriend, there to listen to me rant about this new girl I had a crush on. She always manages to make me feel better, and tries to convince me that I deserve the world. 

Sometimes I forget she’s growing up too, everything just feels so familiar and peaceful. I hope she knows she deserves the world, too.

. . .

    My father. The working man, the one who must always have it figured out. Yet, I know now that deep down he enjoys feeling like a kid again, too. 

    Watching the Michigan game with him, in the stadium and again at the bar, was so electric. I was hardly paying attention to the actual game, but I was paying attention to his face. I realized how happy he was. For once, I saw my father, not as my father, but as a person - one who I loved with all my heart. 

    He was there to pick me back up, to assure me I was more than capable of being loved. Knowing that he always has my back means the world. And no matter what, I know he’ll always let me be his little girl, as long as I want to be.

. . .

    My mother. I feel like I was wayyyy too harsh as a kid. Trying to raise four girls when you’re also trying to grow up could NOT have been easy. But, you still did it. And I love you for it. 

    I remember being able to get coffee with you on the way to work every morning, having random conversations about my newest love interest (ew). I know it must have been weird, having your daughters all come out at different times. But, now that I’m older, and it's not as weird, it's nice talking to you about boys. And girls. 

    I remember mentioning a girl I met at school, and immediately recognizing how lucky I was. Being able to share that I liked a girl, it wasn’t always possible, especially when I was younger. Yet, I could share it with her now. And it wasn’t a big deal. It was actually kind of fun.

. . .

    ​My name. Morena. It’s not really mine, you know? But it is. It’s our name. The one we were given at birth, the one I choose to keep forever. It’s the name I get to share with you all and it’s the one I’m most proud of. I chose it because of you five specifically - no matter what happens in the future, I get to keep a part of you guys close to me. No matter what, I’ll always have my family right by me. 

What makes a family? 
Showing up for each other.  

What makes a family?
Unconditional understanding. 

What makes a family?
A safe place to call home. 

What makes a family?
We do. 

No matter how dysfunctional, we’re a family. And I wouldn’t trade us for anything.
​

Guess which one I am!! Circa 2005 maybe?? All I really know is that my sisters are, and will always be, my best friends <3