I have read articles here and there about being on the B-list when it comes to friendship. Always being the last one called for plans, or not being called at all. Only finding out events happened by photos posted on the internet by people forgetting that you’d see them. No individual chats, maybe just group ones, or vice versa. Just “friends” who include you when it’s appropriate, or you are benefiting them in some way.
Being on the B-team of friendship is a tough road to travel, but the same goes for being on the B-team with family.
I have been forced to make an unusual number of impossibly difficult decisions when it comes to my biological family. For many reasons, none that matter here, or ever need to be shared, I am basically orphaned by the death of my mother eight years ago, and being forced to remove myself from the lives of those I’m blood-related to.
There is a lot of information and a lot more misinformation being shared right now about going “no contact” with family. I am not here to fight for this cause, nor am I here to play up the “fad.” What I am here to do is explain the turmoil estrangement causes to the one who has to make these horrible, painful, and downright depressing decisions.
Going no contact is not something that happens overnight; it’s a slow, gnawing at your stomach type of pain that lasts for years or even decades until you break and explode, and are physically unable to take one more moment of the pain and suffering. Then, and only then, for the safety of you and your family, awful, impossible actions have to be taken. And then you’re alone. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone; it’s another form of grief that isn’t really spoken of. It is never a choice, let alone an easy one. Trust me, I wish it were different. I can tell you with every inch of my being, no one wants to have to make these decisions. No one. What’s left behind is the heaviest form of loneliness, a forever emptiness, and one awful little piece I like to call being the B-team in family.
When you don’t have much “on paper” family left, for whatever reason, (and by “on paper” I mean, the ones biologically or legally tied to you), you are left with bits and pieces of “family” who are chosen. Oh, I love me some chosen family! Shoot, it’s all I have. Chosen family, in many ways, is the biggest blessing for an estranged individual. But this dynamic can also be one of the loneliest. People lovingly adopt you as a part of their group, their core, but you are never actually “one of them.” You get invited to the small get-togethers, but are left out of the large, more prominent events. I truly don’t believe this is done on purpose or intentionally; I think it’s the nature of not being an “on paper” part of their lives.
When there’s no marriage license, no birth certificate, no legal ties, it’s easy to be forgotten. Would this make me change any of the choices I have made with my given family? No. But it doesn’t make the pain any less real.
In some ways, having chosen family can feel very one-sided. These people are just as important as those “on paper,” if not more so, but you remain left out of important events, photographs, or obituaries. The connections aren’t known beyond my heart and memories. It’s hard and sad, but herein lies the B-team of family. Anyone who is estranged from family probably has been there, and I’m here to say you aren’t alone. As a dear friend says, “Humans are messy,” and what you’re feeling isn’t made up.
I want to make one thing clear: I am in no way saying those who have welcomed me into their groups have done anything wrong. Quite the opposite, really; without them I don’t know where I’d be. I think it’s a lack of understanding, and maybe a lack of communication. Many people are fortunate not to understand what it truly means to be estranged from family and the pain it creates. So when my family and I are included in any way, it is a blessing, and something I am eternally grateful for.
I spend a lot of time thinking about my own little family, the “on paper” group I have created (with some help, of course—thanks, husband!). But also the chosen family who have joined and will eventually join our core along the way. The idea is that it will continue to grow into a healthy, stable, large group of people who come together with one goal: togetherness. That togetherness is superglued with deep love, mutual respect, and appreciation, no matter what ties connect us. No “on paper” needed; the love we share is more than enough—always family, always chosen. What I want for my children is to cherish people and welcome them regardless of blood or other legal formalities. To open their hearts and include them as they grow older, because we all deserve to be chosen.
Our value is not in how much family we have or how many friends we count, but who we are at our core, and what good we bring to this world.
Going no contact and being estranged from family is not all that I am. But it is a big piece of me—a piece I must carry for the rest of my life. Those of us who know this deep pain just want to be welcomed and valued for who we are. It’s pretty simple, and likely part of why we got here in the first place.
So if you are on the B-team with family, or find yourself realizing you may have a B-team person in your life, know we just want to be loved. It’s been a hard road to get here, and we deeply appreciate you choosing us too.
by Leslie Deane-Mountjoy 
by Jennifer Bailey 
by Her View From Home 
