Why I Built My Social Support System

Have you ever considered all of the people, outside of your immediate family, that have contributed to your growth, success and wellbeing? Do you think you would be the same person you are now without them?

When I was five, my parents brought me downstairs in our condo—late at night after having just returned from a doctor’s appointment—to have a talk with me.

They shared that my 3-month old brother was sick, that his skin was turning a pale green. He would need to go to the hospital, and they assured me that everything was going to be ok.

Over the course of the next few years, I had countless caretakers, congregants, and family friends take care of me in the absence of my parents, as they prioritized my brother’s life and health.

Without their sacrifice and genuine care, I don’t know that I would be who I am today.

There were Harold and Doris, who picked me up after school, brought me to their house and showed me how to make Rice Krispies treats.

There was our Nana, Roberta, who literally showed up on our doorstep one day asking if my family needed a caretaker. At her funeral, my Dad shared that he felt she was a literal god-send, and didn’t know how our family would have managed without her.

There were my two best friends through school—Brad and Ben—and their families who literally took me in, fed, and entertained me. The three of us were really into hockey (the two of them were Devils fans, and I’m a diehard Blueshirt). Brad’s dad used to take us to Devils, Rangers, and Jets games. The three of us played roller hockey in the street, at the local rec center, and eventually in private leagues in Jersey where we grew up.

Brad’s mom knew that I hated microwavable pizza, and that my go-to order from McDonalds was a fish filet sandwich, plain, a Sprite. Brad and I shared a love for a classic Jersey-diner Grilled Cheese with fries. He preferred Coke.

Ben’s mom knew I was shy and didn’t speak up about what I wanted to eat at their house, so she often rattled off 4-5 options, that way I could pick something I liked. They had a pool, which was perfect for hanging in the summer.

There was also Chavah, and her parents, who housed me for a month straight in Kindergarten while my parents worked with the top liver specialists in the nation at CHOP (Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia), about 90 minutes from our home in Central Jersey. I didn't know them very well before I was assigned to live with them, and I remember being really uncomfortable having to take a bath with a strange adult. I remember her dad checking in with me each night before bed to ask how I was feeling, and reminding me that my family was going to be ok.

I was a pretty shy kid. My parents kept me in the loop, at the young, ripe age of 5, on what was going on with my brother. And sure, I felt like there were people there to take care of me, and I felt that support.

Still, I started to build up walls and bottle up emotions.

Having friends, like Brad and Ben, to goof off with, to be a real kid with, to compete in and argue about sports, talk about girls, and complain about teachers and homework… that’s what made me feel “normal”. I felt like I could be myself when we were throwing a football or shooting a puck on net.

In the years ahead, once my brother’s condition was more stabilized and he could be at home, it was the nurses and then babysitters that provided stability and comfort in our home. It was nice to feel like there was always someone there to watch and care for us. But my parents were constantly fighting and then separated, and that brought about a whole new wave of guarding emotions.

I started to act out a bit in school. Only when the teachers weren’t looking.

It was if I was trained really well to “follow the rules” of authority when I knew I was being watched, but as soon as I could let that guard down, I would start to act out and get downright silly.

So who is the real me?

Is it the quiet, A- student that did what he was told?

Is it the rebel that kicked a lunch bag of applesauce all over the chalkboard while the teacher left the room?

Is it both? Or neither?

What I’ve learned as an adult is that both of these personalities exist within me, and likely within you.

There are times to be astute, follow direction, and value stability.

There are also times to let loose, be whacky, and not give a shit how you come off.

If you don’t let that last part out, it will find a way, and maybe not in the most fitting environment.

In my teenage years, my family structure started to stabilize when my stepmom came into the picture. We lived primarily with my dad after the separation, and while my brother still had major health and behavioral challenges, there was a newly-formed foundation that supported and favored us both as kids.

At that point, I was already vastly independent and had planted seeds to build my own social support system—my own family—made up of the friends who had strong, aligned values to mine, who cared about each other, were smart, driven, and saw the world in funny ways like I did.

I desperately craved connection, fun, vulnerability, and let’s be honest, attention, from the people I cared about. In order to get these needs met, and to feel whole, I worked really hard to form authentic friendships with people who reciprocated friendship, vulnerability, authenticity, and a certain tinge of weirdness 😜 

I feel very lucky, and very proud, of the “family” I’ve built today.

If it weren’t for both the immense extra-familial support and lack of a strong family system growing up, I would not have been as driven to seek out the support and connection that I found in the incredible friends and mentors I’ve found. Without this, I wouldn’t value those seeds I had sown… and I wouldn’t be who I am today.

And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

Hit reply and let me know.

‘Til Next Week,

🥯 Bagel 🥯