Dear Family:

I'm going to begin with, "I love you," because I do.  I don't always understand you, and you don't always understand me.  I think where there is misunderstanding, resentments can fester.  How can we bridge the gap of understanding?  I think a certain amount of willingness is key.  Are you willing to learn more about me, and to understand me so that we can move beyond the edges of resentment?  Ok, you're willing?  Now, what is required is listening.  The trouble is, effective listening isn't something everyone is capable of.  If we were capable of it, we wouldn't be in this pickle.  It's a learned behavior.  Search the internet for "Active Listening."  Practice it.  If I tell you something from the heart, your job is to receive that information.  That is all.  Just receive it.  Don't meddle with it, turn it upside down and shake it, and please don't make it about you.  Now that you've actually listened to me with an objective ear, you might be a little bit closer to understanding me.  If you aren't, then you need more practice.  

I love you and I would like to be given the chance to listen to you, too.  Are you looking for deeper, more honest relationships?  I am.  I hear that you might not want to get too close to other people's flames, but honestly, what kind of life is it to refuse to acknowledge the discomfort of others?  Tell me what makes you uncomfortable so I don't have to guess. Sometimes, when you bottle that stuff in, your idea of reality is nowhere near the truth, and you've been worried about something that doesn't exist.  Challenge yourself to find an interpretation that isn't dramatic or traumatic. Own your pain. Let other people own their pain. You can't have mine and I don't want yours! Don't try to take control of my struggle and make it yours. 

I love you, but generalizations about me aren't helpful.  If you tell me that I always act a certain way and I'm behaving in a typical pattern, you are demonstrating your lack of awareness of my growth.  I'm a dynamic person, and I am always changing.  So are you.  If you peg me into a square hole in your head, you'll never get to experience my roundness.  If you have bought into the idea that people don't change, there are no legitimate studies that support your claim.  Quite the opposite.  If you keep expecting people to not change, you aren't leaving them any room for growth. Sometimes, it's easier to act out expected roles than to deal with the pushback of change. You probably don't want to be responsible for hindering another person's growth.  Keep your eyes open for humans exploring their potential.  And, please, explore your own. You aren't trapped. I would love to see you grow.  It's happening whether you admit it or not, so let's celebrate your growth and change.

I love you, but when you question my choices, you question my humanity.  You don't get to play God with my choices, especially at my age.  If you don't like how I present myself, or who I spend my time with, or if you think that I am hurting someone by being my true self, or if you refuse to be in parts of my life but want full access to other parts, something is really wrong with your concept of "love and support."  You don't get to come into my life only if I continue to act in ways that don't disrupt your concept of who I am.  You are afraid of something, but it isn't me. If the people I surround myself with make you uncomfortable, consider that they may be my chosen family.  You get to choose whether or not you accept my chosen family, but you don't get to reject my family and then complain that I never call or visit you.  It shouldn't have to be an act of bravery for me to show up in my true form, but it is.  I have had to work on being brave all my life. I'd like to see you be brave and accept my true form -- my shifting, growing, true self.

I love you, but acting out of shame and fear is not love.  When you protect the tender feelings of others from my reality and my truth, you are not doing anyone any favors.  When I embarrass you because I did something you think is inappropriate, that is your shame talking, and it has nothing to do with me.  Shame has no place in loving relationships.  Shame is the most damaging and isolating act you can impose on another, especially if you are calling it "love." Calling fear and shame "love" is really confusing. I am working on becoming resilient to your shaming and fear and I'm learning what love really is.  It's your work, too.  I don't know who taught you these tools of shame and fear, but they were wrong to do so.

Some day, we're all going to be dead.  I have one chance at this life, and I recognize that you might miss me now as if I am already gone. I'm not.  I'm here, ready to sit down to dinner with you, but on my terms of mutual respect and dignity.  I won't accept an invitation with caveats of rejection.  I won't be treated as if I am less-than, an embarrassment, or that I've made poor choices, just so I can gain your approval.  I love you, and I accept that you might not like my terms.  The invitation still stands.