What my Family Calls "Love," Everyone Else Calls "Loyalty"

I have thrown that phrase around in a number of different contexts over the last few years, usually to describe a problem I saw.  It was first pointed out to me by one of my close friends about four years ago.  The original observation was based on the fact that the emotional aspects of the relationships in my family were nearly non-existent.  We are reasonably close in our interactions, and can depend on one another, but this is based on a sense of duty and honor, as opposed to some strong emotional bond.  It pervades the rest of my extended family to some degree, but is extremely true of the relationships between the members of my immediate family.  We rarely miss a major holiday or family get together, but we rarely talk about what we are dealing with or feeling.

When my parents first told me that they were splitting up, the first thing they asked me after going over the practical details was: "how do you feel about all of this?"  My response was the first time I had quoted that phrase directly to them, although I had previously used it to describe my family to others.  My Dad's initial response was to reflexively deny it, until he had taken about five seconds to actually process it, after which he conceded that it was probably accurate.

It was originally stated to point out a problem, and from a certain perspective that is an issue that should be addressed, although I am not sure how.  But there is a actually a flip side that I had not really pondered until the progression of events over the last week or so.  My family (immediate or extended) are not people who I go to for emotional support, it just doesn't work that way.  But in providing practical assistance, they are actually quite reliable.

But when I need that level of dependable response from my friends, who I do rely on for emotional support, I sure don't find it.  I have been going out of my way to seek out people to talk to, to help process what is going on at an emotional level.  But it feels like the process of trying to make that actually happen adds more stress than it alleviates, on the rare occasion that things actually fall together.  The rest of the time it a constant struggle to get a hold of people, and then try to fit things in to their schedule, when I have no real schedule as I take on the unknown, one step at a time.  The ones who are available, usually have trouble being helpful.  And of the ones that are helpful, the few that are finding ways to make themselves available, are managing to do so in ways that make my life even more stressful.

Skype adds an interesting option into that equation.  I was never a fan of video chatting, but was consciously trying to get more comfortable with it, to stay in touch with people during my upcoming trip.  This situation is the first time I have ever found it to be a truly helpful tool.  I am not sure if I am actually getting used to it, or just that when you are completely emotionally drained, you don't even notice that it is inherently kind of awkward to video chat with someone.  Anyhow, I have done more video chatting in the last week than in the rest of my life combined.  But it is just not the same thing as actually talking to someone in person, and good luck developing a "Skype Hug."

But the end result is still that "what my family calls love, everyone else calls loyalty," and for now, I'll take it.  Someday I will probably need a whole bunch of counseling to sort out the emotional ramifications of that problem, but at least I know who I can depend on.