Game of Homes

I am Jon Snow. I am Tyrion Lannister. I am Daenerys Targaryen. In a more literal sense I am Hanna of house Allison. A character not written by George R. Martin or Benioff and Weiss in any of the seasons, yet carefully depicted within the beloved people of the seven kingdoms. I related to the characters in this show on a level that took me by surprise, now it’s ending has broken my heart—and left my Sundays blandly free—but has also left me hope for so much more of what is to come for me. It turns out there is a place in the world for “cripples, bastards, and broken things.”

When I say I am Jon Snow I think of family. The Starks. The Allisons. There are five siblings in my family including myself, and four others. There were five siblings including Jon and his four siblings. I was not a bastard with a disgraced name, or a disgruntled mother that begrudgingly took care of me. However, I felt the displacement in my life. Being in the family that I was raised in, I felt like I belonged, because it was where I took my first steps, but I also felt like I didn’t belong, and like I will never be what I am supposed to be.

I am Tyrion Lannister, no not an imp, no; but a person with mental health issues will always be a bastard in their family’s eyes. My family loves me, but there will always be a part of me that they will not be able to change, although they so desperately wish they could. I consider myself lucky that my mental state isn’t worn on my chest for the world to see, as the imp’s stature is so stapled to him. Regardless of that, I will never be the person they want me to be when who I am has already tainted their views.

I am foremost Daenerys Targaryen. I have chosen my road wisely, listening to only my trusted advisor, my best friend. There were times I felt stranded on Esos, far from what should feel like home. My trusted advisor, my hand, my sun, and my stars, the moon of my life, helped me to cross the narrow sea, and meet face to face with my abandonment issues. I felt enraged, I felt disheartened, I felt confused, but I made it.

I am Hanna of house Allison, and I am one of the crippled, bastards, and broken things. I related myself most closely to the Targaryen bannermen, and it was no surprise to me that my best friend was always a Stark. Her family became my chosen family; they brought me in, and took care of me. Seeing the way that the series ended, I cried when Daenerys died, and it broke me to see the Starks part ways once again. Then I realized, sitting on the couch, between my best friend and the rest of my chosen family, I realized that I was truly Jon Snow. A Targaryen sitting amongst the Starks. I will never be a Stark, but they will always be a part of me, they will always be my family. This was the first show that I ever watched every episode of with my chosen Stark family.

So when you ask me what the series Game of Thrones means to me: It means understanding, it means feeling whole, it means family, it means so many things that can’t be expressed in any number of words that I could type out on paper. I lived in these characters, I followed these characters, and I found where I belong in the real world.

Thank you, Game of Thrones.

Sincerely, Hanna The Broken