Screw Normalcy

The happiest time of my conscious life was when I was dedicated to being different. People were intrigued with the odd styles of clothes I would pick out, my quirky hobbies and habits, and the fact that for a while, I just didn't give a damn. I mean, I did. My personality was a cultivation of things that I enjoyed, things that made me an individual, and at the same time I was very conscious of the fact that those differences were what drew people to me, and so I did care a lot about what people thought, and the more different I was from the crowd, the happier I was with myself.

When I was 13, I remember moving to San Marin and realizing that different was no longer good. Everyone was white. Everyone had stylish clothes, and a JanSport backpack. Except me. And for the next 11 years, I tried to be "that." I tried to be like everyone else, because I didn't want to be alone. I thought that maybe if I changed the outside of me, the inside would align itself and I would finally be a normal person.

But as The Nanny so eloquently told me, as I was explaining to her that I'd rather drink beer than eat ice cream because it had less calories, "You're weird."

And it suddenly hit me, damn straight I am! And no matter what hell I do, I'm always going to be weird. I'm tired of fighting it.

I strove for so long to be understood. And I'm tired of always trying to explain myself, always wasting my energy to get people to understand what I'm talking about, or why I did something that they wouldn't have done. I give up. For some reason, that just isn't important to me anymore.

Whenever I start a new friendship, it's always this feeling of, "Will this be the person who really gets me?" And I'm just starting to think it's not possible. It's an unreal expectation that someone out there will totally get me. And even if that person was out there in the world, would I really want to find them? Would I want to be aroudn someone who always understood how I felt? Maybe, but it seems like it could get a little annoying.

Anyway, for years and years, I tried to define myself without being true to who I really am. I tried to find "acceptable" hobbies and do all that normal shit that people do, and I haven't really been happy because it just wasn't me. And not that this revelation is going to make me chipper overnight, but I feel a bit freer just thinking that right now, I'm a freaking odd-ball, and I'm okay with that.