Normal – A figment of someone else’s imagination

normalI heard this a long time ago under the influence of a less than legal herb and it has always struck a chord with me. I was never a “normal” child and continued to be a ‘less than “normal”’ adolescent, evidenced by a couple of trips to a shrink (both pointless exercises, fueled by parental paranoia). As I matured, I learned to “assimilate” somewhat, my eccentricities hidden from my daily acquaintances, who considered me to be, more or less, normal.

This was fine for a short while but I became frustrated with it. I sought friendships with others on the fringes of the socially acceptable and became even less “normal”. There came a point when my mother coined the phrase “twilight person” to describe my acquaintances and me.

It took until well into my twenties (and I’m still working on it now) and meeting my future husband to begin to accept myself as I am, no more and no less normal than the next person.
There is no “normal” only the perception of it, perception is subjective and the product of an individual mind, therefore normal is a figment of the imagination.

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