When we hear the word family, most of us instinctively think of parents, siblings, grandparents, essentially the people tied to us by blood. Yet, as we grow and weave our way through life’s chapters, we find ourselves belonging to far more families than just the one written into our DNA. Some are chosen, some are built through work, some are born out of shared geography or shared screens, and some greet us with a wagging tail or a friendly meow. Each of these families plays its own role in nurturing us, shaping our personalities, and enriching our lives. And though their purposes may be distinct, they are beautifully interwoven, creating a network of support far stronger than any one strand alone.
Our story begins with our biological family, our foundation and roots. It provides our earliest understanding of care, trust, and belonging. Even when imperfect, or dysfunctional, they are the ones who first shape our language, values, and sense of identity. No matter where you end up in the world, these are the roots from which we grow.
We grow up, move on, and enter the professional rat race of the modern world. We spend much of our waking life with colleagues and learn that a good professional family doesn’t just help us meet deadlines, it challenges us, mentors us, and celebrates our wins in ways that your biological family will never understand (unless you work in the family business). They offer stability in uncertain times and open doors to growth we might never have reached alone.
There comes a point where you realise that for whatever reason or series of circumstances, not all family is assigned; some we hand-pick. These are the friends or soul tribe who understand our unspoken fears, who show up at midnight with ice cream or wine, and who see us not for who we must be, but for who we truly are. Chosen families remind us that love is not bound by genetics but by connection, and more often than not, have the ability to heal what the biological or professional families broke.
In an age of virtual connections, our “digital family” is real and powerful. These are the communities, group chats, and online friends who share our niche passions or life experiences. Some of these special people we may never meet in person, yet who feel as present in our lives as our next-door neighbour. Let’s face it, if it weren’t for our digital families, very few of us would have emerged sane from the isolation and social distancing of the COVID years.
The four-legged family (or two-legged, depending on what animals share your sacred space) are often our most loyal confidants. My cats have always been the keepers of secrets that will never see the light of day, witnesses to tears and desperation that no human will come to know about. They remind us to live in the moment, to greet each day with enthusiasm, and to love without condition. Whether through a comforting purr or a goofy tail wag, our animal family nurtures our emotional wellbeing in a way that’s primal and pure.
These families are not isolated chapters in the Book of Life; they overlap like threads in a single fabric. Your biological sister may also be a colleague. A neighbour might become part of your chosen family. A digital friend could introduce you to your next professional opportunity. Different families meet different needs, i.e. emotional, practical, intellectual, creative, etc. but together, they form a resilient web of support. We lean on one when another is fraying, and often find ourselves giving back to one family while receiving from another. Theyare the bridges that carry us from isolation toward intimacy. As John O’Donohue writes in Eternal Echoes, “Our hunger to belong is the longing to find a bridge across the distance from isolation to intimacy… Something within each of us cries out for belonging.” This longing isn’t a weakness; it’s the core of our humanity. It’s why we reach for others when life shakes us, and why even the most self-sufficient among us still seek the warmth of connection.
Without belonging, even a life full of accomplishments can feel hollow. Status, possessions, and recognition may offer moments of pride, but they cannot replace the quiet assurance of being embraced, seen, and loved. The many families we inhabit give us different “nests” to come home to and create that sense of belonging where our presence matters, our voice is heard, and our absence would leave a gap. They remind us that we’re not solitary travellers, but part of an intricate human (and sometimes furry) web where we are both held and needed.
FrogDiva Thoughts 