I’ve always loved the idea of family—what it represents, the warmth, the support, the laughter. But the truth is, growing up, I didn’t have that. My family wasn’t the safe haven it’s supposed to be. Instead, it was a place where I felt judged, neglected, and at times, deeply alone.
My father, unfortunately, was out of the picture early on due to his struggles with alcoholism and the damage he caused to those around him. My mother, on the other hand, did everything she could to raise my sibling and me. But without a support system, it was a daily battle. Her family wasn’t supportive. Instead, they tore her down with constant criticism. And the way they treated me and my sibling? It was nothing short of toxic. Rather than offering us grace, we were pitied, gossiped about, and judged.
Because of this, I often ended up staying with random babysitters who made me feel uneasy and being around my mom’s family wasn’t any better. It wasn’t home. It never felt like home. And when my mom remarried, people on the outside assumed we were living this luxurious life because of the house we lived in. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Behind closed doors, it was chaotic—arguments, tension, and always that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
When my mom’s family rented an apartment within the house we lived in, things went from bad to worse. My uncle took every opportunity to spread rumors about me and my family. I was in high school, and yet it felt like every step I took was being watched, criticized, and distorted into some ugly version of the truth. My cousins had this unhealthy obsession with weight and would constantly comment on mine—whether I gained or lost weight, it was always something. It felt like I was under a microscope, never free to just exist.
Then there was my aunt, who turned a blind eye to her husband’s inappropriate behavior. He said things that no decent person would ever say, and yet, she allowed it. It was disgusting and humiliating to realize that these were the people I was related to. These were the people I was supposed to call family. But they were anything but. They were toxic, and the more I was around them, the more I realized how damaging they were to me and my sense of self.
What hurt the most, though, was my mom’s inability to see how harmful these people were. She allowed them into our lives, even when it was clear they were no good for us. I never understood why she couldn’t protect us from them. It made me question everything, even my sense of home. I couldn’t comprehend how a place meant to be safe could feel so suffocating.
In my junior year of high school, my mom announced she was expecting. At the time, I was happy for her. But looking back, I realize it was her way of securing her financial freedom. It wasn’t about love or building a family. And that broke me in a way I can’t fully explain. She never protected my sibling and me the way she did with her new child, and to this day, it eats at me. The person I thought she was turned out to be someone who chose money over love, and that is a painful realization to come to.
I’ve talked a lot on my blog about letting go of family. And I want to make it clear that I am genuinely happy for those who have families that protect and love one another, however, I wasn’t one of those people. I didn’t have that, and it’s okay if you didn’t either. Whether your experience was similar to mine or entirely different, know this—you can reclaim your life.
You can build your own family. You can create new traditions, new definitions of love and loyalty. Protecting your mental health is paramount, and no one—absolutely no one—should make you feel guilty for that. It’s okay to grow outside of the mess you were born into. It’s okay to let go.
If you're reading this and you’ve struggled with toxic family dynamics, I want you to know that you are not alone. You deserve to be safe, to be loved, and to be at peace. And if that means breaking free from the people who are supposed to be “family,” then so be it.
You deserve better. We all do.
Let’s keep growing, healing, and building the lives we deserve—together.
See you on the next post!
Yours Truly,
Serina
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