Family doesn’t have to be blood

I keep having people ask what happened between me and my family. Some I will share and some I will not. Because despite their shit behavior, I’m not shit.
I will preface this with Yes I am okay. Now. I have an amazing support system. A chosen family. One who has been more supportive than my own blood.
Yes, I’m aware that this is a public outing but only to those who know me personally and also know them and if that’s the case, you likely know this already. Or some of you might anyway.
But I share there here for those of you dealing with grief like mine or similar to mine who find those who should be your biggest support system pulling away, being shitty humans, being unsupportive, or just in general being NOTHING.

First, I lost my mom in 2016. I know she’d be supportive. She fucking loved Bryce. He was her first grandbaby and she spoiled the fuck out of that kid. He even had a tattoo that partially honored her.
Second, my dad is fucking amazing. That man would give you the shirt off of his back even if it were the last one he owned. He is incredibly supportive and the only immediate family member who checks on me, says he loves me, and talks to me about Bryce. He was so proud of that boy and they always talked about riding because my dad used to ride.

This is about the rest.

I’ve known my step mom since I was 11. I’m almost 42. Over 30 years that she’s been in my life. We’ve never gotten along. She’s always been a bitch to me. One of my little sisters was born when I was in high school and she’d often force me to cancel my plans with friends to be her free babysitter. I love watching my sister and playing with her but you do not EVER parentify children. Ever.
“I’m going out with XYZ to the movies tonight”
“No. You’re staying home and babysitting. I’m going out with your dad.”
I never was able to do extracurriculars in school because she didn’t want to drive me. I was a cheerleader for a couple of years in high school but ONLY because I paid friends gas money to drive me home from practices and games and my mom sent me money for shoes and things.
Her mom was horrible and rude to me too. Needless to say, once I had my own transportation, I was home as little as possible. Worked every day after school. Stayed the night at my best friend’s house every weekend possible. Anything to be away from their toxicity.
By the time I graduated, she was angry at me for something so petty that I can’t even remember what it was and she refused to come to my graduation. My sisters were there. My dad. Grandparents. My mom and grandma drove in. But her bitchy, petty ass stayed home to pout.
Over the years, it stayed strained and I periodically tried to let it go. Every time I did, she’d show her colors again. Last year, I tried again. Carter and I went to visit over spring break 2022. Everything was fine. Didn’t seem to be issues.
Then Bryce’s accident in December.
My dad and one of my sisters came out to be with me for a week. She stayed home. No biggie. She has health issues.
But she didn’t call. Didn’t even text. Didn’t send a fucking card. This was her grandson too. She called my dad multiple times per day every day because she’s insecure as fuck but didn’t even ask to speak to me. Didn’t ask him to pass a message. Not a fucking word. Five months later and still nothing.
That was her final bridge and she detonated that bitch with C-4.

One of my sisters abandoned her kids with an abusive ex and his horrible family and refused to give DCS permission to speak with me so I could try to get custody before that happened. She did speak to me after the accident and said she loved me and I said it back and I mean it. I do. I love her. But I also still don’t want anything to do with someone who abandons their children with an abusive man.

Another sister was one I was always close to. Before the accident, there were some personal issues for her that I won’t share. But once we all knew about them, we all jumped to help her. I am across the country so I could only do so much but I did what I could from here, which was mostly phone calls and research. I said some things to her husband that I don’t regret. I stand by them. I’m glad he’s done what he’s now done but I don’t regret what I said. They were the truth. She was angry about what I said but we’d made up.
After the accident, she couldn’t come out here but we talked and FaceTimed and she texted almost nightly to remind me to take my meds because she knew that I was in survival mode. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t eating. I didn’t eat more than maybe a protein shake and 2 bites of food per day for weeks. Less than that for the first week. Didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours per night for weeks. No energy to be around people. Talk. Answer messages. Shower. But she knew I needed my meds so she messaged me to remind me and say she loved me.
But the support quickly faded. After maybe 2 weeks, messages turned to chitchat. Anytime I mentioned Bryce or sent pics or videos in our group chat, she didn’t respond. After 2 months of neither of my sisters messaging or calling at all, I called her (and my other sister…story pending) out and her excuse was how I didn’t support her when she was dealing with her issues and that all I did was try to take her kids away from her.
What the fuck? I just mentioned the stuff I did to help from across the country. And the kids thing? I’m fucking baffled even still and that was 2 months ago now. There was never a mention of her kids from me. This isn’t the sister I mentioned above where I mentioned trying to get custody because she was going to GIVE AWAY custody. This is a different one. There was never a mention of her kids, she never brought this up when things went down, when we made up after, or anything else. Because it didn’t happen and I’m lost on where she got this idea. Unless it’s the husband who I know hates me for calling his ass out making shit up. Who the fuck knows.
But this sister literally said that “it goes both ways” and since I never checked on her when she was dealing with her stuff (which I did), she had no obligation to check on me. I asked her if she was seriously comparing her {redacted} to the fact that my child is now literally ashes in a fucking box in my living room. Then she proceeded to block me all over social media. So yeah. Sister or not, done.

The last one isn’t as serious, but the excuse still hurt and pissed me off. This sister dropped everything when I called crying the morning after the accident. Drove with my dad across the country. Came to the memorial with my dad. Stayed here for a week to help me and be a support. Did my laundry and cleaned my house when I could barely function. Went with my dad and stocked my fridge and pantry so I wouldn’t have to think about food. She and Bryce would snap and send TikToks back and forth a lot.
For a little bit, she did respond to my messages about him. Sent me funny messages about him. After less than a month…nothing. Chitchat about her mom’s new dog even though that woman has rehomed every damn dog she’s ever had. Not really responding when I talked about how Carter and I were doing. Not checking on us.
When I sent the message calling them both out, her excuse…I’ve been busy. And then listed all of the things.
Cool, cool, cool. Yes, that does sound busy. I’d been busy too. Horrible depression and grief. A 12-year-old with horrible depression, grief, anxiety, and PTSD. Helping that kid not flunk out of 6th grade and have to repeat. Managing both of our therapy appointments. Working full time. Managing my grad school classes.
And seeing a box full of my son’s ashes in my living room daily.
But yes. Please tell me how you were too fucking busy to spare 10 seconds to send your big sister a text just to say “thinking of you” or “love you” or even just “💜”.

And now, for the good, aside from my dad and the cousins who reach out often since I have mentioned them.

My best friend has been my best friend since before Carter was born. Fucking thick and thin. My marriage with his dad and the divorce with all of his bullshit. My repeat court battles with his dad because of his child abuse and repeat refusals to pay child support. The constant stretches of him not using visitation and not even seeing his son. Her kids are Carter’s best friends. They are more like cousins than friends. Her daughter is 2 weeks older than him. She knows Carter better than his own dad does. My up-and-down relationship with Bryce’s other parents. My later relationship with an abusive alcoholic meant I had to quickly pack bags and run and stay on her couch for a week while I find a place for us. She was my call after the accident. 1 am, and she answered with “What’s wrong?” only to be answered by my sobs and she replied with “I’ll be right there”. She still wears the Bryce bracelet I gave her from his memorial ride. Always has my back. She is in my support circle.

Bryce’s big sister. Funny enough, I didn’t even birth her. I met her when she was 5. Damn outspoken, precocious, extrovert, never stopped talking. But hilarious and adorable. And when Bryce was born? Holy hell. That girl fought people for another turn to hold him. I have so many pictures of her holding him. They drifted a little as she got older and married but later got super close again because he moved with me full-time instead of part-time for the last 2 years before his accident. She also lives near me, so he often went to hang out with her and her husband and have Uncle Bryce time with his niece. He’d go with them on camping trips with their friends and join their game nights. They were able to get so close before he was taken from us. Even though her dad and I have been divorced for longer than we were married, that girl and I have maintained a relationship this entire time. Like her relationship with Bryce, we drifted just a bit as she first went off into adulthood but then returned together again. And now I am an honorary grandma to her mini-me and am allowed to spoil her. I see her often, we talk all the time and message even more. She also was at my house in the middle of the night after the accident. Sat with me while I was in shock. Half asleep but only because my body was shutting down and I’d been awake for over 24 hours. When I finally passed out on the couch curled up with the dog stuck in my arms because I wouldn’t let him go, she sweetly woke me up and put me to bed.
“Let’s go to bed, mama”
She is in my support circle.

My ex-husband…believe it or not. We started as good friends before we started dating. I was only 18 years old and was fucking head over heels for those damn blue eyes. For those who knew Bryce…you know that charisma mixed with arrogance? Yeah. He got that from his dad. Ha! I won’t go into our marriage or divorce. It is irrelevant now other than to say that we didn’t get along for quite a few years.
But over the last couple of years, we were finally getting along. Not really buddies, but we could sit and chat and laugh and do just fine.
But now…a few weeks ago, we were talking on the phone about an important matter and then were just chatting and he made a comment and said “You know, I’d bet that Bryce is somewhere now rolling his eyes saying ‘Yeah sure…NOW you guys are friends’”. I mean, he’s not wrong. When I saw him for the first time a couple of days after we lost our baby boy, he gave me the biggest hug. We were both crying. We might have had our differences, arguments, and issues over the years…but we made that baby boy when we were in love. We both loved that boy with everything we had and he always knew how much we loved him, even through everything. He’s given me a big hug every time I’ve seen him since then. We text and check on each other. He is in my support circle.

His wife. I won’t get into history, but we didn’t get along for a very long time. In the past couple of years, we were okay. And now, we understand each other. As mothers. She didn’t give birth to Bryce and share his DNA as I did, but she was his second mother for 15 years. That is a long time to love a child. He wasn’t even yet 5 when she met him. He was fucking adorable back then. He was always adorable. But you should have seen him at 4. We share an unbelievable pain. We both have years of memories of “I love you, Mom” and Mother’s Day gifts and Christmases. We are both grieving the loss of our son. She texts me often to see how I am doing. I text her too. She is in my support circle.

All of my son’s siblings: the ones who were from my ex’s first marriage and live on their own, the ones living with my ex and his wife, my 12-year-old. They are in my support circle.

His best friend and the riders in his group. I am Mama Jen and I love them all and I am there for them. They are in my support circle.

The love of his life. She is the daughter I almost had. I will love her forever even though she will have to find a new direction for her life that doesn’t involve being married to my son. I will be happy for her when she finds a new path. I will be happy for her when she finds love again. I will be happy for her if she ever decides to marry. She will always be my family. She is in my support circle.

My girlfriend. We met when I was still fresh in the loss. Who the fuck am I kidding? I’m still fresh in it. I’m still a hot fucking mess. I probably shouldn’t have been dating. But we met. I enjoyed her conversations. Her company. We clicked. She understands me. She’s patient. She lets me be the hot fucking mess that I am. She lets me talk about Bryce when I need to talk about him. She lets me be quiet when I need quiet. She understands when I need alone time or just downtime at home vs going out. She’s perfectly content for take out and relaxing on the couch when I have those days. She affirms my feelings and my grief. Supports my process. Held me and coached my breathing during a panic attack after reading the official police report details. Reads my rants here and texts me with a single 💜 just to share her support and say “I see you, I hear you, I support you” after each one. She’s visited his memorial with me. She had a local artist create a drawing of one of his photos for me for Mother’s Day. She is in my support circle.

Yes, this was long. Yes, this was personal.

But my point is that family doesn’t have to be blood. Support circles don’t have to include blood family. You can choose your family. This is the worst thing I have ever encountered in my life and it is crucial to have true support. I may not have most of my immediate family supporting me but I have my chosen family.

Find your circle. Let them embrace you. Let them love you. Let them support you and hold you up. Even when you’re a hot fucking mess.

Photo from May 27, 2015. Bryce, age 12.