How many of you are the complete opposite to some of your immediate family members? There are differences, maybe of opinions, values, or just downright don’t like them possibly? But, we’re family. We’re there for each other no matter if we like them or not. Sure, you can be estranged from them but most of us ride or die for our family. It’s our nature. We run as a pack. We all have some dysfunctional members though don’t we? There’s just something a bit off?

I have a few in my inner circle….

A cousin, we’ll call her the Crazy K. She shows up at family functions smiling, sweet, and caring. She brings a casserole and flowers and even quotes bible scriptures. But, she’s a con-artist. She’ll slip into your purse while you’re having a conversation and take your cash. She’s taken credit cards and she’s been caught on camera before at a Target with one of my other cousins card. She’ll also raid the medicine cabinet of any prescription pills you might have. We’ve all contributed to her rehab and getting help financially too. We know her well enough now to put aspirin in the pill bottles that she takes from us. It’s a set up. We love her unconditionally and if she calls and needs rehab, we’ll all help her out. She’s family.

My beautiful, sweet and loving Mom. She’s my best friend. She’s my absolute everything. She was in labor with me over 20 hours and wiped my snotty nose, changed my diaper, let me move home anytime I needed to after a bad break up. Here’s the kicker though. She doesn’t truly know me. She’s extremely religious and conservative. I talk to her once a week onĀ  Sunday evenings on the phone. Well, basically she talks to me. I don’t get a word in. She does all of the talking. It’s usually a 2 hour conversation. She condemns people that cuss, drink, etc. Sinners are the devil. Although she’s not perfect either, she judges. If she knew I said fuck as much as I do she would think the devil had taken over my body. To her, I’m still the sweet white haired, blue eyed little girl that plays with dolls. She would be highly disappointed in me and completely embarrassed if she ever read my blog. Thus, why I am here on WP under an alias. I cannot take the chance of her finding me. She’s quite savvy on FB, Twitter, any social media. So, I’m in the WP protection plan here. Ha. She’s family.

My Dad, you’ve possibly read a post or two about my “Daddy Issues”….Well, he wasn’t around a lot growing up. When he was around he worked a lot and could be a mean mother fucker. He was a hunter and would shoot anything. From deer, wild hog, dogs, cats, anything just for the fun of it. He cut myself and my brother down to size many times because we weren’t as mean or as tough as he was. We didn’t live up to his standards because we didn’t like country music, camping or hunting. Two days later he’d tell you how much he loved you and offer you a hug. I swear I think he was or is bipolar. Too bad he doesn’t realize it or didn’t when we were kids so we could’ve had a better childhood. He calls every three months and will talk about his latest kill, about how much money he’s made, what he’s cooking for dinner, how much sex he’s having, etc. It’s all about him. Or he’s watched the Hallmark channel and something reminded him of me and starts crying telling me how much he loves me. I listen and tell him I love him too. I try to be the good daughter and just be there for him. He’s family.

My parents are divorced. They’re like night and day in comparison to each other. Mom being sweet, religious and conservative and Dad telling me about his sex life and cussing quite a bit. The difference in my parents is that I listen to them when they don’t listen to me. They don’t know me. You see, I’ve found myself, but they’ve never found me. And I’m OK with that. In all honesty, I can count only four people that KNOW me personally. They’re pretty fucking special to say the least. I married one of them. I’m not lovable or even likable sometimes but they get me and love me anyways.

And then, there you are. My beautiful followers that I cherish so so much. You allow me to be me by pouring this shit out onto this blog. Although you don’t see me physically and we don’t meet for coffee or dinner, you know me. You’re my diary of sorts, my sounding board. As always, I adore you and thank you for reading, commenting, sharing pieces of you with me.

I know you’re thinking “Why this deep shit today Lennon?” You can thank one of my four people that truly know me, Rhonnie. She encouraged me to write this. She inspires me and is my long legged muse. Keeping me grounded and encouraging me constantly. Most of all, she keeps me laughing.

Hoping each of you have a Rhonnie in your life. We all need a Rhonnie, that’s for sure.