Growing Up is Hard

Growing up, my parents were my heroes and in my eyes my family could do no wrong. My family was perfect and I loved them and they loved me more than I could ever imagine. Then, as I began growing up, I began hearing people say things. Your dad is fat. Your mom is a clean freak. Your grandpa cheated on his wife. Your uncle smokes. And that was okay because I loved my family and they loved me more than I could ever imagine. I still looked up to my parents and that's what mattered, right? Then I began noticing for myself that my heroes weren't as infallible as I thought they were. Grandma gets migraines, and isn't as strong as I thought she was. My mom is in and out of the hospital, and isn't as strong as I though she was. Dad now does seem more overweight than I though, does that make him any less strong? But despite this, I loved them and they loved me more than I could imagine. Then, something happened. One day I realized I didn't want to be like my parents, and when you think about it, no one does. Even my parents didn't want to be like theirs. When did my role model become someone I didn't aspire to be? How can someone loose faith in their hero? Growing up is difficult, especially when you acquire the ability to process more information about the world around you and make judgments that are impossible not to make. Being naive was more special I think. Despite this, I love my family, and they love me more than I could ever imagine.