Family

When I was little, "family" meant my mom, dad, sister, and me. We were close. Maybe too close? We tolerated various members of our extended family—and occasionally enjoyed spending time with them—but for the most part we preferred hanging out together, laughing, eating, and watching movies. I didn't learn until many years later that my parents could be pretty overbearing and...intense, I'm told.

When I moved away, "family" became my tight circle of friends.We were also close...in pretty intimate and familial ways. We broke the rules, we bucked tradition. We established an anti-establishment spin on what a family could be. We vowed to find ways to stay close forever, and even raise our children together. I don't doubt that had we had more flexible careers and a property we could afford, we could've been mistaken for a Big Love commune.

But alas, New York is cruel to those with real estate dreams, and so our family became splintered the way families do when no roof can contain them. Couples welcomed bouncing babies and became threesomes. Some of those threesomes moved away, myself and my partner included, with promises to stay close. Weekly video calls became monthly phone calls. Monthly phone calls became off again on again chat rooms. Our bonds remain strong, but the tethers long.

Today, "family" has an entirely different meaning. Our circle is a lot smaller than I expected. But having weathered our respective blood lines, our far away and fickle friends, the ups and downs of a nontraditional relationship, and several moves to unfamiliar, sometimes unfriendly places, my husband and son and I are growing bonds that get stronger every day.