The family you were born into—do you sometimes want to walk away from it? Or at the very least, avoid it or limit contact with the people in it? It’s not very acceptable or popular to say, but I don’t like spending too much time with my extended family. In fact, I differentiate between my core family and my extended family. My extended family is composed of the ghost of my father, my mother, my siblings, and their partners and kids. I would rather spend time with my core family, the family I chose and created, which is composed of my husband and two kids. Whereas I feel safe and welcome with my core family, I feel threatened and scared with my extended family.
A recent event highlighted the complexities of family dynamics for me. It made me realize that we can act naturally and composed in the presence of people we would rather avoid if given a choice. We can do so without ghosting them and at the very least being civil to them.
A few days ago, it was my birthday. My extended family planned a trip to the beach a few weeks before my birthday. The beach was four hours’ drive away from my home and well out of my comfort zone. Originally, I planned to do regular work on my birthday since it was a workday. Then, I would spend quality time with my husband and kids before leaving for the beach trip. This plan minimized contact with my extended family and gave me a warm fuzzy feeling; this plan felt safe and okay.
But then, something unexpected happened. There was an ongoing water pipe repair on the corner of our street, and one of the nincompoops accidentally smashed open a pipe. The result? Immediate loss of water with no estimate for when water services would be restored. Well, happy birthday to me—what a way to mark it.
My core family and I had no choice but to find a place to relocate temporarily. So, in the heat of the moment, I decided to move to my sister’s place. Her condo would barely fit us, but at least there would be water. Anyway, I rationally thought, it was only a few days before the weekend, and then we could all head to the beach. The logistics would also be easier.
So, smack in the middle of my shift, I packed in a hurry for everybody. I called my sister, and soon enough, we all settled in her place, where the WiFi was pretty great. However, within that span of an hour or so while I was offline, something unexpected happened again. I received several urgent messages and calls on MS Teams and my phone from my direct supervisor—uh oh, bad timing. My boss’s boss was looking for me! As soon as I could, I connected with her and addressed the concern. Whew! But because of that, I felt put in a precarious position.
It’s been almost a week since that near miss, but I still feel uneasy. The lingering sentiment has something to do with being ashamed of my needs and spontaneity, as well as my discomfort with life’s unpredictability in general.
I have this great insecurity—I want to be perfect in everything, and being called when I was not available gave me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
This point brings me back to one of the major reasons why I shy away from my extended family. All of them remind me of my extemporaneous side—the me who shows up urgently, wanting and needing to be answered. Now. It is this part of me that I seek to alienate.
I have a serious need for predictability and routine because of what happened with these people. When I grew up with them, there was a lot of impulsive decision-making rooted in spontaneous feelings, which became precursors to change. Most of this emotional volatility came from my late father, cascaded into my siblings, while my mother tried to be the peacekeeper.
My extended family is also not so great with boundaries; when someone, anyone, is upset, we have to appease them and make sacrifices, considering their feelings above our own.
What part did I play? As the eldest sister, I was always told, “You’re Achi [阿奇]; you need to be a good role model!” It was a given that I had to prioritize their feelings and desires before mine because mine were either irrelevant, unimportant, or invalid. My dad, my siblings, and my mom’s needs always came first, in that order. They did not want to understand or make room for my unconventionality.
The beach vacation happened, and right after my core family parted ways with the others, I was finally able to breathe. Because I needed space and time away from my extended family to decompress, I asked my core family if it was okay to head to Tagaytay midway on our way home. I also wanted to claim a bit of the Eid ul Fitr weekend for ourselves. They agreed. When we drove back to Manila, we also watched “Inside Out 2” to cap off the vacation. My core family’s willingness to agree to these breaks showed how much they love and support me despite my so-called imperfections. They also understood that even though I should love my extended family unconditionally, I really don’t, and I can’t pretend otherwise.
To my extended family’s credit, despite my many fears about what would happen, the outing turned out well. There were no emotional meltdowns or crises where I was put in an excruciating situation. I’ve come to realize that the way we relate to each other has evolved. They are still too spontaneous for my taste; they’re still not so great with boundaries, but they have changed.
They have started to respect my assertions a bit, and I have started to meet them more in the middle. I have also learned how not to be too vocal, to tiptoe around eggshells more, and to be diplomatic. I guess, over the years of trial and error, I managed to assemble an arsenal of strategies for dealing with them, and that’s good! There’s progress in our relationship (but I still have my reservations!).
Ultimately, the hasty decision to upend myself in the middle of the shift to jumpstart the vacation was my call. The choice to join my extended family on the beach trip was also mine. Looking back, it was worth the discomfort because family is family; in the end, they’re all you’ve got. Besides, in interpersonal relationships, a certain amount of friction, when managed well, can lead to a diversity of thought, better diplomacy skills, and tolerance for boredom and disagreement.
My short interaction with my kin also reminded me of areas for improvement in my work relationships. Given the nature of the business in GenAI, there is always a high workload and pressure to work overtime in my company. I can’t deny that I sometimes feel guilty for not wanting to do OT, but it’s a matter of setting healthy boundaries, isn’t it? There’s a balance between wanting to contribute to the team and knowing when to say, “No, I can’t; that is my limit.”
Because of my drive for perfection, I unduly pressure myself to “sacrifice.” (If I don’t, am I not good enough? Am I not worthy?) True, there is pressure from the external environment (bosses, other team members), but I’m the one gaslighting myself. I can’t help it; I grew up with it, and it was home.
If I don’t actively change it, I’ll keep going and going until all of me is gone. And I don’t want that. Not anymore.
To become the person I envision at work—someone trusted, valued, and respected—I need to do a few things. These are to clarify my goals, own them, and stand up for myself. Lastly, I also need to hone my communication skills, especially my ability to be tactful and considerate. My gut feeling tells me this will go a long way.
The featured image on this blog was AI-generated by me using free tools, namely ChatGPT, Canva, and Leonardo AI. I use these images to support my written content creatively and cost-effectively.
