After The Glue

There's something very painful about seeing your own family showing up loudly for someone other than you. They celebrate their successes but completely forget yours. My husband and daughter have been there all the way, but the others cut loose as soon as they could.

After the glue. Family leaving and not supporting.

I see the likes. The comments. The encouragement. So I know you're capable of supporting people. Just not me. That you choose that stance hurts more than your silence ever could. I've written a book. I'm close to putting out another. None of them follow my author page or show support. They're not even interested enough to acknowledge what I'm doing. I used to wonder how we could be so different.

Then I realized it was our folks. Our parents were the glue. Now that they're both gone, the glue disappeared. Along with that, any reason to pretend we're family also left. I remember Mom always telling me to take their actions in stride. Someday it would change. I always hoped it'd get better, but that's not how it worked out.

I try not to let it hurt so much. I really do. But at some point I need to realize that blood may make us related; however, it doesn't make us family.