Finding Ly-Ang #26: Family Matters: Or?

Thanksgiving just wrapped up. You’re still recovering from Uncle Ray’s ‘Why aren’t you married yet?’ cross-examination, and here is Christmas already warming up in the bullpen. This is bigger than a heist movie. We’ve got motives, suspects, and evidence piling up faster than your cousin’s excuses for why they still owe you money.

The Family Tree

They say the family tree bends but doesn’t break. Well, let me tell you something—it bends, it twists, and sometimes, it snaps like an overcooked breadstick.

I’ve seen trees in hurricanes that hold up better than some of these so-called ‘family trees.’ Sometimes that tree ain’t bending—it’s leaning, falling, and snapping like it’s got beef with gravity.

Take it from me, blood ties don’t come with an eternal warranty. Have you ever noticed how some relatives act like they got you on a lease? Talking about, ‘We raised you!’ Uh, okay, Ma’am, but did I ask to be born? You wanted a kid; I just wanted to nap in peace.

Family’s supposed to be your rock, your ride-or-die crew. But sometimes, let’s face it, they’re more like unpaid critics with front-row seats to your life. One missed call and suddenly you’re the Grinch who stole Thanksgiving. Aunt Sheila’s got a laundry list of complaints, Uncle Ray’s hitting you with ‘Why aren’t you married yet?’ and Grandma? She’s got jokes about your holiday weight gain.

Now, Grandma, I love you, but if you call me ‘plump’ one more time, I’m showing up to Christmas dinner with a pie chart breaking down the calories in your famous okra soup.

The Chosen Family

These are the people who don’t care if you call them every week or once every two years. You pick up the phone, and they’re ready to party like it’s 1999. No guilt, no drama—just love. Now compare that to Aunt Sheila: one missed call, and suddenly you’re public enemy number one. I call it ‘The Case of the Missing Gratitude.’

They don’t care if you call them every week or once every decade. You pick up the phone, and it’s like no time has passed.

Meanwhile, some blood relatives act like they’re managing your life’s attendance record. ‘You never visit!’ Well, Aunt Sheila, maybe that’s because the last time I came over, you ambushed me with the ‘When are you getting a real job?’ lecture.

Auntie Extra—the Repeat Offender

Now, we’ve got another suspect in this case: Auntie Extra. You know the one—no blood relation, but she’s at every cookout, wedding, and baptism, acting like she’s your third parent. Auntie Extra loves to stir the pot (literally and figuratively) with her unsolicited commentary:

- ‘Why don’t you call your mother more?’

- ‘Your parents raised you—you owe them!’

Auntie Extra, let me stop you right there. I owe my parents respect, love, and the occasional phone call—not my entire existence. And let’s not act like you were there during my sleepless nights juggling work, bills, and existential dread. Stay in your lane, Auntie Extra. Better yet, stay in the kitchen and perfect that pepper’s soup recipe.

- ’It is required for the after party hungover’.

The Ownership Complex

Some families act like they own you. They hit you with the ‘We made you who you are!’ guilt trip. Okay, but where’s my cut of the royalties?

Family should be your foundation, not your landlord charging emotional rent. And yet, some folks act like you’ve got a debt to pay for simply existing. Meanwhile, your chosen family—the ones who show up with no strings attached—are out here throwing love and joy like confetti.

The Holidays: Boot Camp for Boundaries

Holidays are family boot camp. You come in for turkey and cheer, but you leave with a laundry list of grievances. Weddings, baptisms, Thanksgiving, Christmas—you name it, and someone’s using it as a stage for ‘The Guilt Trip Chronicles.’

It’s funny how friends can go years without talking, and when you finally call, it’s all love and joy. But try that with family, and suddenly it’s:

- ‘Oh, so now you remember us?’

- ‘Guess you’re too busy to care.’

Relax, Aunt Sheila! I’ve been busy with life—not that you’d notice between all your critique sessions.

The Final Verdict

Families, whether by blood or by choice, should lift you up, not drag you down. Auntie Extra? She can save her commentary for her book club. Uncle Ray? He can keep his unsolicited career advice. And Aunt Sheila? Maybe take a nap instead of taking inventory of my life.

This holiday season, remember: boundaries aren’t just for gardens—they’re for sanity. Surround yourself with people who love you for who you are, not for what you do or how often you call. Because at the end of the day, you’re the main character in your story.

Live Laugh Love—and pass the cranberry sauce without the guilt!