Normal is in the Eye of the Beholder

  Peeking in on a moment in time doesn’t tell the whole story, at least not for our mixed family. A Saturday afternoon turned into evening with my ex, his parents, our daughter and my other daughter from my new marriage and what the hell, let’s throw in a group of 7/8 year olds might look normal, unless of course you knew our backstory.

Where to begin this torrid story, well in the middle of course, that now is our norm (English major side note, I love how the shorten word for normal is now an acceptable term aka ‘the norm’). My ex and I were never married, yes I’ve already heard some hateful comments about premarital sex and babies out of wedlock, I’m down to my bones so happy that we never were married though (a tale for another day of course). We were not marriage material, we in turn broke up, knowing we were not compatible only to find we were pregnant with our sweet baby girl. Long story short, we tried to make it work for over 3 years but it was miserable and no way for a child to grow up seeing. Fast forward 5 years later and I’m married to the best man I could have dreamt up, mother to another girl and twin boys and now 600 miles away from my first born child ( post about this to come). 

Now standing in the home of my ex, a man I should loathe and his parents who I also should resent and I feel a creepy dejavu feeling come over me as I slave over a birthday cake that will be devoured without a thank you, a group of individuals who feel entitled to the things they are given, including my innocent child. I don’t feel hate but sadness, sadness for the life that thinks this is normal, the non-living that is happening before my lives and that’s when I feel the relief. A wave of relief crashes onto these thoughts as I realize that I escaped this “norm” a life of blah and that this moment in time is a reminder that I survived and escaped this life and there’s hope for my daughter that she too can escape this life if only I can show her there is more. After all, that is my job isn’t it? 

  My two year old busts into the kitchen at this moment, hollaring and laughing hysterically and I smile knowing she will never think this is normal, she will be the fire in the darkness and will guide her sister out of the dark and into the light. Sometimes the one you look up to learns something from you, I sure hope she does.


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