Contemplation in my parents living space. I do this every time I visit.

The question for myself is why do I have no emotional attachment here. The things that have happened in the house make me smile but also make me numb. I love my family, my parents are fantastic but I don’t understand them. I know they don’t always understand me. I’ve always had a very separate and unique relationship with all four of my siblings, but I don’t understand them.

My family hurts me. I’ve hurt them. I’m relearning my place. I never wanted to be apart of those “oh I haven’t talked to them in years” type families, so I bite my tongue when I shouldn’t, I speak my mind when I shouldn’t, but mostly I love the hell out of them regardless. The growth between all of us is hard for me to put into words. We aren’t perfect but none of us strive for perfection. Transparency is teaching me to really decide what makes me uncomfortable.