That One Time I saw what “Normal” Looked like.

by amanda



I used to think the abnormality of my family was pretty normal. I mean, parents getting separated is pretty common, and I’m doing alright. I go to an awesome university and have friends and everything like that. I’m definitely no outcast of society. Maybe not everyone’s dad solicit sex online while their mom is going through chemo, but who cares. 

It also may not be totally normal to go to drug rehab at 16…but everyone has their quirks, right? 

That’s what I thought up until I met my boyfriend in my freshman year of college. 

His parents just threw down the 50 grand a year for his schooling. No scholarship, no financial aid, nothing. As I got to know him more and more, I began to realize that his family was a typical well-to-do American family, straight out of a movie. 

He was good looking, as was his entire family. He opened doors for me and always paid. “There must be something wrong with this guy,” I thought. 

There wasn’t. 

Every time he went home there were a plethora of happy looking family pictures posted all over Facebook. That was when I realized that I didn’t have a single family picture. 

My boyfriend was aghast any time I brought up a negative about my life. Separated parents? Drugs? Low on money? Shocking. 

This prompted me to stop telling him things like that. I became outwardly “normal”, and we were a perfect “normal” couple. 

He began to invite me to go to Philadelphia and meet his family, a thought that put knots in my stomach and brought me to the realization that I wasn’t quite being myself. 

There were so many levels that we didn’t connect on. I have to take pills to get to sleep every night, and the only thing he gets nervous about is passing his chemistry test so that he can eventually take over his dad’s successful business. 

He was an amazing boyfriend…such a sweetheart; but our relationship started falling apart toward the end of the school year when I wouldn’t agree to go meet his family. 

He broke up with me a few days before he moved back home for the summer. He felt like I was keeping things from him, and I was. 

I still look through his family pictures that are posted every now and then, but I think I’m happy that my life hasn’t been that normal. If it was, I wouldn’t be me. 

I’ll post later about why I started thinking about this. Good story.