Where Love Heals

My Good Friday was perfect.

A short workday.
Lunch with Brittani.
Watching the storm roll in from the porch with Kelli, Sam, Joshua, and Shawn.
Belcourt with my favorite couple, Anna and TJ.
A movie so scary I nearly jumped into Anna’s lap.
Text messages from a beautiful soul throughout the day.
Swinging until midnight, listening to Lauren play and sing, chatting with her and Shawn.
Catching up with Chelsea and Rose over wine and grilled cheese.
Monopoly with Samantha, Joshua, Megan, and Kelli.

Catching up.
Living the dream wide awake.
Peace and love filling my heart.
Happy. Complete. Excited.

Then the call.

“We think it’s best if you don’t come over today. We don’t want to expose the children—they’re so impressionable,” my aunt said.

I replied calmly, “Of course they are. They’re children. But my lifestyle isn’t contagious, and I would never bring it up. It’s Easter. I just want to see everyone. You told me at Christmas this wouldn’t happen again.”

She began talking, but I shut down—my defense mechanism kicking in. I ended it with, “Happy Easter. I hope you all enjoy this beautiful day.”

Sitting in my car, gathering my emotions, I realized: it’s time to let go.
Twenty minutes in that parking lot, trying to stop the tears from falling.

Spending summers in Louisiana—some of the happiest times of my life. I’ll always treasure those memories.
We share blood and history…
…but that doesn’t make them my family anymore.

I’ve been holding on to something I lost long ago.
The connection isn’t there.

Why do I care so deeply for people who judge me and fail to love me?

It’s my nature to love. But I love myself enough now to let go of those who cannot love me back.

As Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

I can’t switch off my heart. I will love them—from afar.
But I will not let them break me any further.

Family isn’t always who shares our blood.
Family is the people who adopt us into their lives, who care enough to spend time with us, who forgive our past, who are actively invested in us.
Family is the people who love and accept us for who we truly are—without trying to change us.

Sometimes, family is chosen.
And sometimes, we are lucky enough to be chosen by the very best.

—JMS