I’m not naturally a social person. In most social situations, I choose to sit in the corner and quietly observe conversation instead of actively contributing. At a party, 99% of the time I forego opportunities to talk to my friends or meet new people and instead choose to try to find the house dog, who I proceed to spend the rest of my night with. My selective sociality extends to my family, too: holiday gatherings growing up were hell for me. Being trapped in my home with every aunt and uncle who I only talked to during the holidays just about ruined Thanksgiving and Christmas for the first 13 years or so of my life, because the reality is you can’t hole up in your room and hide from the creepy drunk uncle or the aunt who asks way too many questions and then immediately forget the answers—it’s rude. Growing up selectively social and averse to family gatherings meant that now I really don’t think that your biological family is the most important group a person can be a part of. The people you seek out who become your family by choice, in my mind, are the ones who really count.

There’s an old saying about how blood is thicker than water. People like to throw this around as a fabled reminder that family is often the most important thing in a person’s life. These people tend to be people who either don’t know or have chosen to forget that the saying is actually “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” To paraphrase, the family we create through fraternal bonds is closer-knit than the family that we fall into straight from mom’s womb. I feel this is true regardless of the strength of the bonds of your family, because at the end of the day you can choose to be friends with your family as well as being related to them. But there’s something very special about being part of a family that has been created not simply by genetics but one built by late nights, Starbucks runs, heart-to-hearts, shared adventures, and the knowledge that you have selected these people to be your people. Family is created this way by chance and by choice: the chance of being born to specific parents, or the chance of being placed in the same dorm as your freshman year roommate, or of being sat next to that one person in all your classes, but at the end of the day you have to choose whether you are part of a family. The idea of “ohana”—thanks, Stitch—doesn’t care if you are part of your family by blood or not. Ohana means that nobody is left behind or forgotten because you love them, because you care about them, because your world is a better palace with them in it. Ohana doesn’t discriminate.

It’s okay if your family isn’t one that you fall into simply by being born. Your family is the group of people where you find yourself to be a fitting puzzle piece. The family you share genes with is important, but what makes this family important isn’t just that they were there the day you were born. Your family, whatever kind of family you are a part of, is important simply because you care. Choosing your family, be it by bonding with your cousins or getting up the nerve to talk to that person you think is so cool you’re scared to talk to them, is the most important thing you can do.