There are many people who feel embarrassed by their family; extended, nuclear or otherwise. They feel that if people meet their fussy mother, crazy twin sister, badly behaved teenager or brother with the lazy eye and funky twitch that they will no longer be their friend. They worry any image or view you have of them will be erased, gone forever; squashed.
My problem works the other way – any friend I have ever had always likes me more when they meet my family. I need to spend quality time with someone and make sure they like me for me first before they meet my family. Simply put; one of the best things you can say about me is that I have a great family.
It is not a perfect family. We have a busload of quirks between us; hot tempers, huge appetites, large egos, rarefied hobbies, humours that feed off non stop pranks and jabs, and idiosyncrasies to sink a ship. We are pretty much always right, love the sound of our own voices, are consistently stubborn and often out of line. Some people choose to like us because it is less work than opposing us.
It seems the best families nurture the individual and support the team. As Oscar Wilde said, “Be yourself, everyone else is taken”.
Surely you remember that awful feeling when you got picked to be on a team and knew it was the weakest team; that before you even got up to bat, that no matter how hard you worked you likely would not win?
Every day of my life I feel the opposite, as though no matter how many times I might strike out that I am playing on the winning team. If I break the bat, hit a foul ball, slide sloppily home or drop a fly ball- all will be forgiven. I will be teased until I die but the door will remain open. It is a tremendous feeling.
And I swing harder because I want to feel that I deserve to have a place on that winning team. But no matter how hard I try I still throw like a girl.
