That’s a phrase I never thought I would say (or, er, type). I’ve always been something of a black sheep, but maybe that was just because I’ve spent the majority of my life around my dad’s side of the family.
That’s not to say that my paternal family isn’t full of fantastic, wonderful people. I love all of them dearly! But, I don’t know… they’re all normal adults. They went to school and got good jobs and they have families. They’re all very good at living their lives and I just… I can’t relate, I guess. I love them, but I can’t connect with them–I could never talk about how well I was doing in school (because I wasn’t, and still am not), or my job (I was chronically unemployed), or my kids (…no. Just… no).
And, deep, dark truth be told, I’m a little jealous when I look at my cousins on my dad’s side and see them with their shit together. So, I’ve always held an unfair bitterness that really should have been re-purposed into something productive, instead of silent sulking.
But my mom’s side of the family is completely bat-shit, screaming-at-each-other-on-Christmas, rehashing-40-year-old-arguments insane and that’s something I connect with very deeply. Because I am also severely mentally damaged. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t relate to them so well!
Both sides of my familial coin are great. My paternal family is composed and polished, which provides me with good examples of how to live a life of balance and maturity. And my maternal family is a glaring reminder that my insanity is perfectly normal, and that even us crazies can make it in this world.
Honestly, I’m pretty lucky to have such great people sharing my bloodline.
I love you all.