The Beauty in Dysfunction: A Riddle of Family
The Beauty in Dysfunction: A Riddle of Family
I have two fathers and two mothers, I have four sets of grandparents. I have a brother the same age as me. I have a younger brother. I have two sisters older than me and one younger than me. But I’m the only child. And you think your family is dysfunctional.
If you read that and thought, what kind of family tree looks like a tumbleweed?, then welcome to the beautiful chaos that is mine.
Growing up, there were no instructions for this kind of family. No manual on how to keep track of birthdays, which house had your favorite snacks, or which parent technically wasn’t “yours.” Because in our world, none of that mattered. We didn’t use words like step or half — not out of denial, but out of love. Because my family wasn’t made of fractions or labels. It was made of people who showed up.
The Riddle of Love
That riddle is really a reflection of how families evolve — how they stretch and twist and rebuild themselves after heartbreak or change. You can call it blended, patched, or unconventional. But I learned that love doesn’t get divided; it multiplies.
When you grow up surrounded by more parents than the average sitcom, you also inherit more wisdom, more personalities, and, honestly, more chaos. One house might have rules about dinner manners, another might let you eat dessert first. One parent might ground you, the other might give you a life talk instead. It’s confusing, sure. But it’s real. It’s human.
Redefining “Dysfunctional”
Some people use the word dysfunctional like it’s a flaw, a warning label. But in my world, dysfunction meant complexity, depth, and connection. We bickered, blended, and occasionally broke, but we never gave up on being family. And that’s what counts.
Maybe the real message in the riddle is this: family isn’t defined by DNA or titles — it’s made by the people who love you through the mess.
So yeah, my family might look like a twisted logic puzzle to outsiders. But to me, it’s the most beautiful paradox of all — one built not on perfection, but on unconditional love.
In my dysfunctional family, we never used the term step or half. We just called each other family. And that’s how love should be — chaotic, boundless, and beautifully mindless.
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