I don’t feel like I have ever been the typical “normal” girl. I didn’t like playing dress up, unless it was with a cape. I didn’t like make-up, unless it was giving myself a black eye. While my friends were drooling over boys with stars in their eyes, I was outside playing in the dirt with said boys. The summer between eight and ninth grade I didn’t have any friends and I spent it watching re-runs of The Monkees TV show.
It was awesome.
But what is normal anyways? Being myself was always normal to me. It was when I pretended to be interested in the things my friends were interested in felt fake to me. And who wants to be fake? Give me a real person any day and forget the idea of normal. Normal is subjective anyway. I’d rather be interesting than normal.
I have always been drawn to the fictional world. For years, I stayed away from Supernatural. I don’t know why. Then suddenly, I got the inkling to start watching it. And once I started, I got drawn into the family.