In the Absence of Guarantee: Chosen Families and the Work of Becoming Held

Introduction: In the Absence of Guarantee

There is no universal guarantee of belonging.

Family, as it is commonly understood, is often framed as a fixed and reliable structure, an inherited network of care presumed to offer safety, recognition, and continuity. Yet this assumption does not hold equally across lived experiences. For many individuals, particularly those navigating disability, trauma, or neurodivergence, familial belonging can be conditional, inconsistent, or altogether absent.

What is promised as refuge can instead become a site of negotiation.

It is within this absence of guarantee that chosen family begins to take form not as a secondary option, but as an intentional response to relational uncertainty. Chosen family emerges where belonging is not freely given, but actively constructed. It reframes the central question from Who are we obligated to? to Who is willing to remain, to recognize, and to participate in the mutual act of care?

In this sense, chosen family is not simply about connection. It is about the ongoing work of becoming held and of holding others in return.

Kinship Reconsidered: From Inheritance to Intention

Traditional models of kinship rely heavily on notions of permanence, obligation, and biological continuity. These frameworks are reinforced through legal systems, cultural expectations, and social norms that prioritize inherited relationships over all others.

However, such models often obscure a fundamental reality: proximity does not guarantee care, and obligation does not ensure understanding.

Chosen family disrupts this assumption by reframing kinship as an intentional and ethical practice. Rather than relying on biological ties, it is built through shared commitments, through acts of care that are chosen, reaffirmed, and sustained over time.

This shift from inheritance to intention is significant.

It transforms relationships from static structures into dynamic processes. To be part of a chosen family is not simply to belong, but to paiticipate; to engage in the continuous shaping of relational space. Boundaries must be negotiated, expectations must be articulated, and care must be practiced with attentiveness.

Yet, this intentionality introduces complexity. Without predetermined roles or cultural scripts, chosen families must define themselves in real time. This requires reflexivity, communication, and a willingness to remain present even when certainty is absent.

And it is precisely within this uncertainty that chosen family finds its depth.

Interdependence as Foundation: A Disability Justice Perspective

Dominant cultural narratives continue to elevate independence as the ideal state of being, equating self-sufficiencywith success and dependence with deficiency.

Disability justice challenges this framework at its core.

By centering interdependence, it asserts that reliance on others is not a deviation from the norm but an intrinsic aspect of human existence. All individuals exist within networks of care, whether acknowledged or obscured.

For disabled individuals, however, this reality is often made hypervisible in ways that invite stigma. Support needs are framed as burdens, and care is frequently positioned within hierarchical or transactional models.

Chosen family offers a counter-framework.

Within these intentionally constructed networks, interdependence is not merely accepted; it is recognized as foundational. Care is not unidirectional, nor is it contingent upon productivity or perceived worth. Instead, it is fluid, reciprocal, and responsive to changing capacities.

This does not eliminate imbalance; rather, it reframes it. Needs may fluctuate, roles may shift, and capacity may vary, but the commitment to one another remains intact.

In this way, chosen family becomes a lived expression of disability justice, where interdependence is not theoretical but enacted through daily practice.

Collective Access: Reconfiguring the Conditions of Belonging

Accessibility is often framed as an individual concern, something to be requested, evaluated, and granted. This model places the burden of inclusion on those who are already navigating systemic barriers, requiring continuous self-advocacy simply to participate.

Collective access offers a fundamentally different approach.

Rather than treating access as an individual accommodation, it positions it as a shared responsibility. It asks not What does this person need to participate? But how do we create environments where participation is assumed and supported from the outset?

Within chosen families, this principle frequently emerges through relational practice.

Access becomes embedded in the rhythms of interaction; in the ways plans are made, communication is structured, and expectations are managed. It is reflected in the willingness to adapt without resistance, to prioritize well-being over efficiency, and to respond to changing needs without requiring justification.

Importantly, collective access is not static. It requires ongoing attention, humility, and responsiveness. Misalignments will occur; needs will evolve.

What distinguishes collective access is not perfection, but commitment, the sustained effort to ensure that no one is rendered peripheral within the space of care.

In this sense, chosen family does not merely include but actively holds.

Unlearning Ability: Toward Anti-Ableist Relational Ethics

The formation of chosen family does not exist outside of broader societal conditioning. Norms related to productivity, independence, and value are deeply internalized, shaping how individuals perceive themselves and others within relationships.

Anti-ableist practice requires a conscious interrogation of these norms.

It asks difficult but necessary questions:

• Is care being extended equitably, or conditionally?
• Are moments of need met with presence, or with quiet withdrawal?
• Are individuals valued for who they are, or for what they can contribute?

Within chosen families, these questions become central to the cultivation of ethical relationships.

To practice anti-ableism relationally is to decouple worth from output. It is to recognize that presence, vulnerability, and fluctuation are not liabilities, but integral aspects of being human.

This process of unlearning is ongoing. It demands accountability, openness, and a willingness to sit with discomfort.

Yet, it is through this process that chosen family can move beyond replication of dominant norms and toward the creation of more equitable, sustaining forms of connection.

Personal Reflection: The Practice of Becoming Held

My understanding of chosen family is not solely theoretical; it is informed by lived experience.

As someone navigating trauma and neurodivergence, I have come to understand that safety is not an inherent feature of relationships. It is something that must be intentionally cultivated, often through careful attention to the subtleties of interaction, tone, timing, and presence.

There is a distinction between being accommodated and being held.

Accommodation, while necessary, often operates within a framework of adjustment, something added in response to a perceived deviation. Being held, by contrast, reflects a deeper level of attunement. It is the recognition of one’s needs without the necessity of constant articulation.

Chosen family exists within this distinction.

It is present in relationships where care is not extracted but offered. Where understanding is not contingent upon explanation. Where one is not merely included, but considered.

For me, this has required intentionality, not only in whom I allow into my life, but in how I show up for others. It has meant unlearning the belief that needing care diminishes my value, and instead recognizing that interdependence is a form of strength.

To be held is not passive. It is participatory.

It is the result of mutual commitment; the shared decision to remain present, even in uncertainty.

Constraints, Access, and the Limits of Choice

While chosen family offers transformative potential, it does not exist in isolation from structural realities.

Access to meaningful connections is shaped by a range of factors, including economic stability, social networks, geographic location, and systemic inclusion. For many disabled individuals, opportunities to build and sustain relationships remain limited by barriers that extend beyond personal control.

Additionally, chosen family is not inherently immune to harm. Power imbalances, emotional fatigue, and misalignment can arise, particularly in the absence of broader support systems.

Choice, in this context, is constrained.

It is influenced by who is available, who has the capacity to engage, and who is able to reciprocate care. Recognizing these limitations is essential not as a critique of chosen family, but as a call to situate it within a larger framework of systemic change.

Chosen family cannot, and should not, be expected to replace structural support. But it can offer a model for what those systems might strive to become.

Conclusion: The Ongoing Work of Becoming Held

In the absence of a guarantee, belonging becomes an act of intention.

Chosen family does not offer certainty. It does not eliminate the complexities of relationships, nor does it resolve the inequities embedded within broader systems.

What it offers, instead, is possibility.

It invites a reimagining of kinship, one grounded not in obligation, but in care; not in permanence, but in presence. It calls for an ethics of relationship that centers interdependence, collective access, and the ongoing practice of anti-ableism.

For the disability community, this reimagining is particularly significant. In a world that often conditions belonging on conformity, chosen family creates space for a different kind of connection, one where individuals are not required to justify their existence to be held.

And perhaps that is the most radical offering of all.

Not the promise of belonging, but the shared commitment to build it together.

Note of Thanks

I extend my sincere gratitude to the individuals and communities who continue to embody the principles of interdependence, collective access, and intentional care in their daily lives.

To those who create space for others to be seen, understood, and held, your work often goes unrecognized, yet its impact is immeasurable.

And to those still in search of such spaces: may you find relationships where care is not conditional, where your presence is not negotiated, and where you are held not despite who you are, but because of it.

Ian Allan

Self-Advocate for The Arc of Northern Virginia

Ian Allan is a self-advocate with a deep cormnitment to policy literacy, systems change, and disability justice. Through the Arc of Northern Virginia, he works to ensure that people with intellectual and developmental disabilities are not merely served by systerns, but are actively shaping therr1.