Sibs Not Kids

A google image result for "diverse family" If we had a housing association, I'm sure they'd be simultaneously thrilled and horrified. Our existence more than likely tripled the diversity cred for our neighborhood, especially since the Asian family moved out quickly after our arrival (I'm sure we had nothing to do with that). ~~~~ I've been told to love myself unconditionally, because love is love or whatever Taylor Swift and Katy Perry say when they're doing their makeup. I'm mostly there, with a few days of not being there at all. It's truly been a journey and I probably can't count on all the hands in the family how many times J has had to tell me over and over again that I can look how I want, how I can change my mind and that I am beautiful. Despite my cute shirts with bananas on them to match my new cute boyish charm, I've had a rough time grappling with this new look since I cut my hair a few years ago.  In all honesty...

My earliest memories include serving as an interpreter for my brother to the rest of the world. I used to think I had superpowers, that maybe he spoke a language that only I understood. "He says he wants lunch," "He said he wants mom," "He's saying 'Fuck Christmas.'" I've always been a fan of accuracy and authenticity. Brother M is two years older than me, so I'd never known anything different than him and his muddling speech that over the years has evolved into a gruff mumble. Though I'm not a fan of the phrase, even in those days, I knew I was my brother's keeper.  ~~~~ She came into siblings in the kind of way that TLC makes shows about. One biological child (her), 8 brothers and sisters adopted from all around the world, many with disabilities. They were as dysfunctional as they were loving. They were the Brady Bunch on meth. In ways, she was Marsha Marsha Marsha, Jan and the housekeeper, whose name I can...