This may come as a surprise to any parts of my family that happen to read this, but they are horrible. Not individually,  quite the opposite actually when we’re paired off and spend time separated from the pack.

There was always a low-level grumbling about an uncle not showing up when the horde got together. I never really understood his plight, his surely is much more complicated, but sympathized after my first year in college. Take a breather away from the drowning volume of my family and it’s easy to see why anyone with extended time away wants to keep their distance. My family is also painfully insular in a way to drive any new person mad, all the in-laws have an unspoken kinship and get along just because of the madness.

It is when I return that I find myself holding my tongue  keeping to myself, and leaving the adults to their own accords. As I moved across country I feared I’d be pushed out into a mire where, because of my time away, questions where more about what kept me busy during the day with little judgement. Don’t think my family is hurling insults or kicking glances in painful made-for-tv sort of way – it’s much more painful and childish, where everyone collects snips of passing judgement from one another like a bad cold and we’re all secretly miserable together.

I’m sure other families are much worse, with abusive drunkenness or real fist fighting – I am not attempting to level myself with that frame of mind. No, I’m simply stating that my move away from my family allowed myself to cast my mold instead of being shoehorned into one.

So to those wondering if college out-of-state or move into your own apartment, or that move across country for no good reason at all is a good idea – it is.

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Why Moving Away Was The Best Thing I Could Have Done

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November 26th, 2012

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