Family and ‘home’

My mum and brother live abroad but I grew up with them, however, I live in England with my Dad. I don’t get along with him very well so that’s abit shit. Growing up it was me and my brother and my mum. My dad lived a few streets away but we only saw him two nights a week plus birthdays and christmas. So my mum and brother have always been important to me. But then we moved away (not my dad though), after two years I came back, leaving my mum and brother still abroad with their lives. I lived with my dad from 16 and I had to get used to a whole new way of living.

My mum cares. She really does. My dad isn’t too bothered. He works a lot and has a pretty good social life too. Regular weekends away. So I made my own life.

Christmas growing up was great. We had fun stuff and I loved it. Christmas with my mums side of the family has always been fun. We have what is called ‘Christmas crap’ which is a box of tacky toys and fun stuff like lollypops shaped like feet πŸ˜›

Christmas with my dads side is organised and dull. Going round opening one present at a time, everyone watching your reactions to each gift.

After moving back to live with my dad, I missed my mum and brother most at Christmas because I used to remember how fun it was with them.

After a really shitty year with my dad I decided to ask my boyfriend if I could be with his family for Christmas. I had been staying there more often so felt closer to them as time went on. It was so lovely. Everyone opened presents whenever they wanted, smiled, drank, ate and laughed. It was perfect. Even my boyfriend’s brothers bought me cool presents. I got a funky memory stick and a gift card to my favourite clothes shop. I LOVE shopping for people’s presents at Christmas and it was great seeing everyone enjoy what I had chosen. Including cool t-shirts and lightsabers πŸ˜‰ I just loved Christmas with them. I feel really teary when I think about how much it felt like a family, I was part of it too.

I am so grateful to have such great people around me. I get along with my boyfriend’s brothers as if they were my own. We rag each other, attack each other and swap food from dinner plates πŸ˜› I just feel insanely lucky to have another family. I never thought I’d be a part of something like this.

I’m writing this while lying in bed at my ‘real’ house while my dad is downstairs watching TV and I’ve got my door closed, my main light off and teddies all around me so I don’t feel so lonely.

By the time this is published, I’ll be back at my boyfriend’s house until monday.

I don’t mind flitting between houses, but as soon as I’m back here I’m counting down the hours until I can be back there.

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