We’ll celebrate the next New Year together.
There were five of us around a small table.
Not eighteen.
Nobody gave me orders.
Nobody checked my phone.
Nobody decided when I could visit my parents.
At midnight, Dad raised his glass and smiled.
—For the family.
For years that word had been used to demand obedience from me.
That night I finally understood its true meaning.
Family wasn’t the one who chained you up to force you to stay.
He was the one who opened the door for you when you finally decided to go out.
