I once met a person who said they did not ever want to be a part of a “broken” family. Meaning, they did not want their immediate family to be split up by divorce.
As they continued to talk about a broken family system, it was hard for me to not take offense, as I hail from what society’s definition of a broken family is.
My biological parents separated and divorced when I was a mere 2nd grader. I remember more of the time of when my mother was a single mom, than I do of my parents living together.
When growing up, the concept of my biological parents living together was a very weird concept. Being shuffled back and forth was the norm.
My mom met my ‘step-dad’ when I was in 5th grade. I soon found myself living in a new house, with a new person, and was in a new room.
Let me just point out- to this day- I still hate the color we painted the room. My mother, yes- I use mother when she is in trouble (kiddddinng but really) Anyway, “Liliac Ash.” To this day, I loathe the greyish purple tint that covered the panels.
What really shows my dislike for the color was when they enclosed the carport and made me a larger room. My 12-year-old self’s ‘f*** you” to lilac ash was painting my room five, yes five, goddy bright colors.
One wall emerald green, one wall K-State purple, one wall hot pink. The fourth wall? My dear Grandma Barkman came over and helped tape 57 stripes on the wall, and we threw in the fourth color, a teal blue.
I won that one. Until three years later, 15-year-old me had to purchase her own paint and supplies. A pale blue, dark grey, and a white chair rail to go in the middle of the wall. Yup, classy folks. My grandpa and I loaded the chair rail into his Corvette for the ride home. If that is not favorite grandchild status…. I don’t know what is.
Anyway, I am glad my biological parents split up. That would have been unstable as hell for me. Granted, the divorce was messy and at times, it flat out sucked.
It was what was best. In my mind, a broken family is mended when that family finds the people they want to invite in.
There are multiple families that don’t fit the stereotypical mold of the 50’s version of a family.
Families come in all shapes and sizes, genders, age… There is not a one size fits all norm.
I am also not hating on a family unit where the biological parents and kids stay and live together. It is just a foreign concept to me. Always has been.
So, broken does not mean broken. Broken means, “I am finding my own version of family that suites the type of unit I want.”
*Are you familiar with a ‘broken’ family? Check out my book below.
Danae Decker 