My tribe

Tribal family units are springing up everywhere in the United States, and I continuously wonder why. We all have families that are blood, and I see posts of how wonderful someone’s family is; yet, people are still going tribal for one reason or another. Some keep their blood family while continuing their relationship with tribe, and others completely cut ties with their blood to be with a mixture of both. I am a person that is in the middle; I have cut ties with several members of my blood family, but have kept my tribe close.

I have needed my tribe here as of late to remind myself that I can do it (life), and am special for the efforts that I put into my own self-preservation and life. It is not that I need the reminder, it is simply just nice to hear that I am doing well and that I need to chill out from time to time. Tribe often acts as sounding board, and helps me through some of the toughest situations I have been in. I am very lucky to have each of them.

So, what is a tribe? A tribal family consists of people that are not blood, but have built the sense of family through trust, patience, and understanding. Sometimes water is thicker than blood and it is something that I need to remind myself of on a constant basis.

My tribe consists of mostly females, which is no surprise given my situation that happened to me when I went no contact. The feeling of being surrounded by women, sacred feminine, is so strong that it is palpable once you are around us for any amount of time. It is a thrum of energy that no one could destroy by a look or a nasty word.

The best part is that we fight, I mean fight, and tell the ugly truths to avoid the beautiful lies. We keep going on despite this fact, and take into consideration what the other person is saying. Example: my oldest son is having a rough time, and I contacted one of my tribal sisters over lunch to discuss what is happening. She was blunt and to the point, which was needed, and correct about my behaviors (do not tell her that she was right). She whipped me into shape, and told me I was repeating a pattern I had learned from my childhood: do not talk about it, push it off, and brush it under the rug until I calmed down. Yes, I was taught how to do this very well and it is not the first time I have wanted to do this (brush heavy shit under a rug), but I had this strong inclination to do so. Classical conditioning is wat is called, I believe by a scientist/psychologist named Pavlov (my spelling could be completely off on that). I am conditioned to run away when times get tough and a meeting is needed, but my sister pushed me through it speaking bluntly and openly. The result? I came home and dealt with shit, and was a badass for doing it.

That is what tribe is.

Thank you as always to Jenn Bovee.

Light up the Darkness,


Photo by: Isabel De Lorenzo