The Family Tree

A tree’s roots are meant to keep it nurtured,? resilient.? But mine only malnourished and betrayed me. They say family is everything:? the blood in your veins,? the roots of your DNA,? the people who make you who you are.? But mine only neglected me? emotionally,? physically,? and mentally.? Some even manipulated me? in ways no child should ever understand. Instead of feeding and caring for me,? my family barely sprinkled me with drops of water? and dragged me into cold,? dark ground—? where sunlight never shone on me? and oxygen barely reached. I lived off nothing. I became a withered, helpless? twig. The branches I grew,? and the people I chased,? were reflections of the family I came from. ? The only kind of love I knew:? toxic,? conditional,? or not there at all. But then,? I began to feed off other families.? Ones that laughed easily,? hugged tightly,? and always showed up for me when it truly mattered. ?I met the nurtured, resilient roots? that mine starved to become. And slowly,? I grew real branches;? Stronger,? and healthier.? An individuals branches lined with vibrant leaves—?relationships rooted in care ?and honesty. I tore away from the dying roots—? I let go of every hand? that ever pulled me down. Now, even though my branches ?grew outside my bloodline,? they mean far more to me? than my dried-up roots? that forgot? I was even theirs.