The alien in my family

When I was a little girl, I often asked my grandma

“…are you sure, I am not adopted?…” The disappointing answer was always “…yes my child…”.

Yesterday I have spoken to my mother on the phone and when she asked what I am up to I told her about my marathon training and she asked how long a marathon is, over 42km I replied. Her answer was a short “aha” followed with a change of topic.

A few month ago when we where shopping, we where talking about… ah I can’t even remember what it was, but I rarely got an answer or response. And I wondered, am I so boring that she doesn’t listen, or am I too intelligent that she doesn’t know what to say, or is it that she just can’t be bothered to show any kind of interest?

When we have been camping at the Hadrian’s Wall, I posted a picture with a beautiful view and my mother said “that looks so lonely… nothing there…” Excuse me but WHAT???!!!

And I get that often around my family and I wonder if it is me? I must be the alien of the family…. the black sheep…. the one who turned out not the way they expected me to be…

When I look at my family and than at me, well… there are not many similarities… not much in common….

I am slim, I love to exercise until it hurts, I read a lot, I write (a lot), I am interested in old architecture, I love opera (note to myself: Don’t ever go with hubby otherwise he will witness me crying like a baby), I like sightseeing, I like being active, I don’t talk about people…. to keep it short:

I am everything my family isn’t. Every now and then, I still think to myself, “who knows, maybe I am adopted and my family managed to cover it perfectly…”

It is good that I am not that close to them, otherwise I would be seriously bothered and it also helps to know, that there are people like me out there who love and understand my ways.

Maybe I am not that alien… just a bit different. Different is good!

Franky

 

 

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