#TWFT52 Prompt 37: The Word for This is "FAMILY"

Pinned in place, shamed

stuttered lines named

with import,

hierarchies of time

fashioned of blood

and bone or just a

chance moment across space; spirals of

stories intertwine

and condense, force me

through a fine press, uneven

ribbons that snap

too soon, to be (perhaps) reformed,

rolled thin,

cut into stars.

How do you define family?

Which relationships have the most impact on you?

Has family been a source of harm or healing?

When the imagery starts with science projects and ends with cookie dough… well, friends, I never promised my writing would make sense. Even to me.

In all seriousness, I’m not sure what I want to say about this one. Not because it’s brought up anything specifically difficult – if anything, I’m feeling the opposite. I remember thinking about this word choice when I added it to the list, and wondering how I would possibly tackle it. But maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been writing about family and relationships all along. Whatever else it is, my #metoo story is, in every way, a family story.

My #metoo story and my family story are inextricable.

My #metoo story *is* my family story.

Hmm. No. I don’t think I accept that idea, though if it had occurred to me a year ago, I’d have agreed. It’s *one of* my family stories, and of course the dynamics that allowed for open, sanctioned sexual abuse played out in countless other ways, ways that were just as destructive. But it’s not the only story. And an unexpected result of this work has been the return of other childhood memories, other experiences, other definitions of me.

In forcing myself to examine the past, I’m rediscovering things I want to carry into the future.