The gift of learning how to be authentic
by Alfonsina Betancourt
My cousin’s birthday was the perfect excuse. We met in New York City for a weekend of celebrations, including eating, dancing, stories, and laughs. As several of my cousins and their significant others were laughing in the middle of a nightclub, I felt my eyes swelling up. No, I wasn’t sad. I just felt this incredible expansion on my chest and immense gratitude for the more than four decades of shared moments with this group of people that I am honored to call family.
As we grew up in Venezuela, always honoring our Italian roots, we experienced countless opportunities to grow together while discovering who we were and wanted to be. As children, acting more like siblings than cousins, we would put shows and beauty pageants together; borrowed my dad’s expensive recording equipment to film movies; created very sophisticated storylines that were played out by our barbies and ken dolls; founded clubs; learned to fish together and also practiced our dance moves. As we became older, we played board games, dominoes, and poker, and most importantly, we coached one another in the art of dating – while some took on the job of scaring any potential candidate that seemed fake. We even had an unspoken agreement, where every boy or girl who intended to date any of the cousins had to be approved by the rest of the family because, after all, we enjoyed those family gatherings too much to allow a new member who did not fit in. Then, we all started getting married, spouses becoming each others’ friends. When the next generation started arriving, the new kids also became close to each other.
I was the first one to leave Venezuela, and not being present in those regular family gatherings, whereas in any traditional Italian family, food was always the protagonist, and we all talked loudly with our hands was one of the hardest things to leave. Growing up, similarly to what happened to me last weekend, I would always find a moment of silence at those family events, look around and feel an incredible expansion on my chest. At the same time, I thought, “how did we get so lucky to have each other in our lives?” As everybody emigrated to other countries, we tried to find ways to get together, and I am happy to report that feeling had not expired.
Last weekend, reconnecting in person again was not only an incredible blessing that left me with a full heart, but it also made me want to dig deeper into the reason why we always have such a good time together. I feel elevated, inspired, and I laughed until my belly hurts, I cried. During the last days together, everything fell into place, and I was able to pinpoint why our family has remained close even now that we are all dispersed in different countries.
We are not a perfect family, and we are all quite different, with diverse interests, careers, and political views. So what is the actual bond? For starters, more than blood, the tremendous amount of shared joyful (and also difficult) moments have offered the fertilizer to make our ties grow stronger with the pass of time, like climbing vines that keep intertwining. Also, some general common interests, including la mangiattura, dancing, even athletic activities, have provided points of encounter. However, all this rational explanation seems to leave behind what I recently discovered was the essential glue to our bond.
First, I discovered it in me, and as I glanced across our brunch table, I realized that was a common characteristic shared by all those present and the other cousins who could not accompany us in New York City that weekend. That was the Holy Grail I have worked towards during my spiritual journey. It suddenly hit me that it becomes so real when surrounded by my family, even when it seems like an elusive reward in many of my most important connections.
What is that these family encounters offer me that allows my heart to expand while creating deep associations? Now I understand that since I was a little, jumpy girl with a head of curls and big dreams, being one of the younger ones in the group, I was always invited and shown how to be my true self. I was never asked to be like anybody else, follow their interests, or dress like them (that does not include the hand-me-downs that had us dressing up alike for many years). I was encouraged and taught by example to connect to the most authentic parts of myself whenever we got together. I never had to hide who I was, and I was asked my opinion even if that differed from others. I did not have to follow anybody’s example but was encouraged to share my experiences. I was allowed to use my voice and was respected because of it. I was protected by the eldest and then seen as an equal as we grew. Our family was the safe nest that allowed me to become me, so it was for everyone else. That was our true gift, the gift of learning how to be authentic.
When we get together as adults, that is how it looks like: a bunch of grown-ups who are comfortable on their skin and who can bond heart-to-heart without extra layers of BS. There are no topics we can’t discuss; there is no shame in dancing or singing our way or losing at a tennis tournament. Everyone brings who they are and offers it to the group. I learned from each of them. We all honor who we are, even if we call it out among jokes. We all celebrate our achievements because we see how each of us has worked hard for them. We also cry together because we know how much it hurts to suffer through the loss of parents, divorces, and failures. We celebrate life together because each moment when we are allowed to connect soul-to-soul is a great blessing.
There are many types of family dynamics. Ours allows us to enjoy each other among laughs and engaging conversations. I feel so blessed to have grown surrounded by so much love and joy. It has taken me a long journey to discover that authenticity has fostered such deep connections. I am grateful that each of us has decided to show up as we are because that has shown me that the ties formed from our most authentic self can survive the pass of time and the distance.
My dear uncle Victor used to say at our family gatherings, “what would a Swiss do to be able to experience life like this?” I am not sure what a Swiss or any other person would do, but now I am confident of what it takes: showing up authentically. Genuity is the precursor of joy, and joy is the reason why I want to keep experiencing life with my dear family because they are the deepest, funniest, most jubilant group of people I have ever met. They are my reminder to always remain true to myself, loyal to the little girl that would participate in Christmas shows and was allowed to dream. And today, as I have grown into the woman I was to become, I am glad my cousins-who-are-like-siblings were the first witnesses of how the essence of that child remains intact. I am not sure where our destinies will take us, but I do not doubt that our beginnings became the foundation of a long-lasting bond. Today, among laughs, shared stories, jokes, and honest conversations, I realize what a blessed girl I am. I can only promise to keep showing up authentically and then extend that skill to all of my other connections.
Thank you, dear family! Life has been a joy because I got to share this path with your beautiful, funny souls. Grazie, Gracias, Thanks from the bottom of my overflowing soul.