I am not normal. I know I keep saying this, but I truly am not normal. I don’t think normally, and I certainly do not have a normal family. In fact my family is what I kindly like to refer to as a Jerry Springer Nightmare.
If you haven’t gathered, I am slightly dramatic and at times full of hot air (just refer to a previous rant about how awful my husband is). But part of the reason I am like that is due to my fucked up upbringing.
My praents certainly did try and in some ways I can not blame them for the ways they were with us, but in other ways I can. I have moulded my own life around trying to be a good person and making sure that I do not repeat the mistakes my parents made. And I am proud to say that I have managed to bring my daughter up without ever laying a hand on her, and letting her know that she is loved and that no matter what, I will always love her. My daughter is a confident, happy little girl because she is secure in her environment. Admittedly my husband is an egg sometimes, but he is my egg and he is an amazing father. My daughter is very lucky to have two parents that love and cherish her and attempt to give her everything she wants and needs.
My parents, unfortunately, were not like that. My parents tried very hard but still it was never quite enough.