Battleangel | Personal

It is uncomfortable to talk of oneself for sure. Yet I had an even more uncomfortable encounter two weeks ago and it still lingers somewhat. And it got me thinking. An old cliché has it that “blood is thicker than water” right, but that is something that I cannot subscribe to. Bottom line, I met half-siblings of mine for the first time and being so family oriented and everything I quickly made my way to a nearly deserted university library, on a saturday of all days. The very fact you have half-siblings that you’ve managed to avoid for over a quarter of a century should be indication enough how engaging I think this idea of blood really is. As for the rest of my kin, I am as much a stranger to them as anyone. If anything, and for various scientific and emotional reasons, I do prefer the “water.”

Though for some, family means every and that is something I will never fully understand. I just can’t empathize with the concept. It feels so outdated, so quaint. Perhaps my attitude is a sign of someone who is comfortable in his own world, and safe within his own castle as it were. I want for nothing, and I fear no one and thus there is no reason for me to dwell on extended family ties. Plus I am like everyone else where I reside. I speak the same language fluently, and look the same as the dominant ethnic and cultural group within a remarkably stable nation-state. Or perhaps it’s just that I am terribly anti-social and don’t care a wit for my fellow man. Could be social baggage from my parents. Who knows really. Introspection never was a great, or indeed reliable source of knowledge.
But one thing struck me the other day as I actually talked to actual people. They do care about family. I found great irony, even amusement, in how well adopted children bond to their extended families as well as their adoptive parents. Not that there is anything wrong or remarkable about that. On the contrary. I compared the sentiments to my own point of reference and this flashing warning sign went up in my mind, alerting me to the how awkward I must seem to others, perhaps more so than I had believed. Obviously I never engage in actual dialogue with anyone on these matters, lest I reveal myself and my nature and opinions. I just nod and let them go on with their monologue, don’t take the bait to engage them in that particular sub-set of topics and quickly move. I guess we all live with more or less damaging secrets like that. I know it’s not exactly like being, say, homosexual or of a different color, but I can’t help but feel a little persecuted by the “bloodline” hegemony as it were. Certainly worth dwelling on.