Families are often described as the place where we first learn love, belonging, and respect. Ideally, they are the people who hold us when the world is heavy and remind us that we matter. But sometimes, family can become the place where those very things are denied.
My mother has long communicated to me—directly and indirectly—that I am not worthy of the love and respect that should come from family. Her words and actions have carried a sharp message: you don’t belong here.
This hasn’t been limited to private interactions. She has often moved in ways that isolate me from others. She has told stories that shape how people see me, tilting perspectives so that they stand with her rather than with me. Which is an awfully weird way to engage your children. She has built coalitions of belief around her version of events, leaving me not only outside the circle of her care, but outside the circle of community she influences.
The result is painful. But after 50+ years expected; but more than that, it is revealing. Because what I have come to understand is this: her actions do not define my worth, they don't actually have anything to do with me. They reveal her need for control, her fear of truth, and her choice to turn love into a tool of manipulation. That choice belongs to her. It does not belong to me.
What she denies does not erase who I am. Being told I am unworthy does not make me unworthy. In fact, it has clarified for me what real love and respect look like. I know, now more than ever, that they are mutual, not one-sided. They are honest, not distorted. They draw people closer, they do not weaponize closeness to push someone away.
I have been lucky enough to have a group of friends, family, and found family that have shown me what love without control, support without judgement looks like.
So while my mother has worked to isolate me, I am not alone. I carry the awareness that her narrative is not the truth of my life. I carry the strength of naming what has happened, without letting it swallow me. And I carry the freedom to write a different story for myself and those I love.
Because family, as it should be, is not built on judgement, manipulation or exclusion. It is built on connection, respect, and trust. That is the kind of family I seek, the kind of family I offer, and the kind of family I will continue to create in my own life.
And let me be clear: as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord by making love the foundation. My children, my family, and my friends will always be met with open arms and open hearts. They will never find judgment or competition here. My home will always be a place of safety and belonging, where love is not rationed as though it is scarece, but freely given.
I live my life by a foundational principle. Love, Happiness, and Belonging are not like queso dip; where someone gets the last scoop and then it is all gone. They are more like pinkeye, the more people get it, the more there is to go around.
