My Upside-Down: Living in a Stranger Things Reality

I’ve written before about my husband’s friends who visited us over Christmas with their 8-year-old daughter. These visits always leave me amazed—not because of the guests themselves, but because of the stark contrast they create in my home.

When my in-laws are just with me and my family, the atmosphere feels heavy. Conversations are functional, often tinged with judgment or indifference. They don’t ask real questions about me, never seem particularly curious about my life, my thoughts, or what I’ve been up to. Instead, I often feel like I’m on trial, silently being weighed and found wanting. It’s a suffocating kind of invisibility.

But when these friends arrive, it’s like flipping a switch. Suddenly, my in-laws’ eyes light up. They engage in animated conversations, hitting our guests with personal question after question. There’s a buzz of excitement in the air, a warmth I rarely, if ever, experience when it’s just us.

It’s like witnessing a completely different version of them—a version that cares, that appreciates, that sees. And yes, it makes me feel down, unloved, and utterly invisible.

The Facade for the Outside World

I know what’s happening. I’ve seen it countless times before. It’s part of the carefully constructed facade they put up for others, for the outside world. When these friends are over, it’s as though my in-laws step into a role, playing the part of the warm, curious, and engaging family members. It’s a performance, but one that feels so real in the moment that I almost start to believe it myself—until I remember the contrast.

When the friends leave, the sparkle dims, and they return to their default setting: disinterest, judgment, and dismissal. It’s as if the warmth evaporates the moment the outsiders walk out the door, leaving behind a chill that feels even colder in comparison.

Living in the Upside Down

If you’ve ever watched Stranger Things, you’ll know what I mean when I say it feels like living between the upside-down and right-side-up worlds. Most of the time, I’m stuck in the “upside-down,” where everything is muted, distorted, and eerily hostile. I see their true selves—the narcissistic behaviors, the lack of empathy, the judgmental glances.

But then, when guests come over, I step into the “right-side-up” world. It’s a world where people are validated, where appreciation flows freely, where there’s an ease and joy in the interactions. I see my husband and my in-laws transform into the best versions of themselves for the benefit of others, and it’s both baffling and painful.

Navigating the Contrast

This dichotomy is exhausting. Watching them sparkle for others while I feel invisible creates a deep ache within me. I know it’s not about me—it’s about their need to project an image, to control how they’re perceived by the outside world. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt less.

Sometimes, I wonder if the “right-side-up” version of them is who they wish they could be but can’t sustain. Other times, I think it’s just another layer of manipulation—a way to keep the world from seeing what lies beneath. Either way, I’m stuck living between these two worlds, trying to make sense of a dynamic that often feels senseless.

Choosing My Own Reality

I can’t change who they are or how they behave, but I can choose how I respond. I remind myself that their actions don’t define my worth. Their inability to see me, to engage with me, or to value me is a reflection of their limitations, not mine.

And so, I focus on building my own version of the “right-side-up” world—a place where my children feel seen, where love and appreciation flow naturally, and where I don’t need to flip a switch to be the best version of myself. Unfortunately, I feel that my life, especially at home when my husband is around, is mostly the upside-down world—a place where validation is scarce, love feels conditional, and I struggle to find my footing.

But I am working to change this, step by step, moment by moment, determined to create a world for myself and my children that feels authentic and whole. Because while I may live between two worlds, I know which one I want to call home.

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