4

Families are such curious entities. We can never pick our own and neither can we pick those that come attached to the ones we fall in love with. It would appear that mother-in-laws are more often than not the central figures of familial discord as well as some fantastic jokes. But regardless, all families have their foibles, some greater than others. Perhaps we gravitated towards each other because we recognized the feeling of manipulated familial love and found comfort in that mutual recognition. I was thus introduced to a new family and novelty worked its magic on us all. They three felt like the center of a freshly baked cookie and they pulled me in with the scent of sweet sincerity. They were small and adorable to me and a wonderful departure from where I had come from. I was happily adopted into what felt like a quaint little family photograph that I had always desperately wanted to be a part of, even if I was just part of the landscaping. Their struggles, fights, bleak existence and general monotony of household chores was suddenly interrupted by someone completely different from their friends, their neighbors and their congregation. Odd was suddenly made even and everything felt whole. It was as if all of our prayers had been answered for we were all overjoyed to have one another.

The gloss of novelty, however, wears off to reveal the original product. Though this is a perfectly natural phenomenon, one cannot help but feel cheated of something they thought was genuine and true when it is one's own failure to accept this reality of life. It does not help when one is blinded by the cheap trickery of false advertising. It is as my mother always said to me when imperfection in the model began to appear, "Time reveals everyone's true colors." I suddenly saw what had always been and I was paralyzed with shock. What once was welcoming now felt imprisoning and I was back to where I thought I had escaped from. I hid under the covers as if it were my own family members shouting at one another and cried as if I had regressed an entire decade. I learned their history through each fight over the most innocuous things like crepes. To be fair, however, they soon discovered I had hidden my glaring quirks in order to appear meek, non-threatening and desirable but now revealed them little by little.

Adoption was perhaps the least appropriate relationship that could have developed but it was what we needed. This also was probably compounded by the opposing forces of young love and regulation. At first it had been the need for surveillance of two hormonally charged teenagers and a hyper concern for premarital physicality, pregnancy and, of course, eternal punishment allowed for all abandonment of trust. Perhaps it was because I came from an exceptionally European family that these customs of constant observance seemed exceptionally bizarre to me and became quite meddlesome when I indeed desired and deserved premarital physical contact. My exceptionally European mother would often tease me by saying that I had a number of hotel rooms at my disposal but she was much happier knowing I was enjoying the comforts of home. She would mock their folly by leaving us conspicuously alone, a custom my guilt-ridden other found exceptionally bizarre and discomforting. The first time when we were left alone by his family was for an hour during an intense Guitar Hero session. I will never forget the incredibly suspicious look we were given after an hour of innocent video gaming; the sting of burning mistrust still lingers. Their grip of physical observance loosened but guilt and obligation were employed so successfully that he never left the nest. I could not leave him and so I stayed, playing by their rules and sleeping on their couch for three and a half years where I saw everything.