Growing Up Normal

I've often wondered whether the physical eccentricities of my family had anything to do with my academic and personal interests in both studying and creating bodies that exist outside the norm. Then I came across a paper on the 'the display of unusual anatmoies' by Alice Dreger, and read this. Seems I'm not the only one who has ever felt freakish for being too 'normal', but her collection beats mine hands down:

... I grew up in a family that gets stared at a lot. My sister looks almost exactly like me except for her full habit and the giant, wooden rosary that hangs from her belt down to her sensible shoes; my biolgical brother is a gangly hippy artist with a crooked nose once broken in a fight; by adopted brother is black with blue eyes and show-stopping dreadlocks as long as my sister's rosary; my father uses a wheelchair and is pushed around my my mother, who for her part uses wrap-around sunglasses that make her look like a geriatric Martian. But me- my family nickname is "the normal one". I've never been sure if it is a slur. Perhaps that explains my attraction to these issues.