…how we all, feel a little bit weird…sometimes.
I think Hanson says it best (by the way, how cute are they?!)
“…When you live in a cookie cutter world being different is a sin. So you don’t stand out. But you don’t fit in. Weird.”
I used to think that the word ’weird’ had such a negative connotation to it; that being different, unique, and standing out from the crowd was not necessarily something to strive for as it was to avoid at all possible costs. Growing up, I wanted to use the same Lisa Frank trapper keepers as everybody else, wanted to wear the same Adidas snap away track pants to gym class like everybody else (who else rocked a pair of these back in the day?), wanted to eat the same nasty hot school lunch like everybody else (no matter what alienistic sludge they served, it was, like, SO dorky to bring your own lunch to school) and even listen to the same music as everybody else.
In eccence…I wanted to be like everybody else, right down to the same color of scrunchies and choice of after-school snack (Little Debby all the way!). I wanted so badly to ‘fit in’, to be accepted by my peers that I was afraid to be my own person, break out from the jello mold, step out of the box that I put myself in, and be proud of my uniqueness. Has anyone else ever felt this way?
A great deal of our youth is based on perception.
Perception of what others see in us (or what we think they see in us). Perception of we what we see in ourselves.
So much of what growing up involves is learning to become comfortable in our own skin, to realize that we don’t need to follow someone else’s path, but instead put on our handy-dandy construction hats and pave our own way. Can you imagine a world where everyone was exactly the same? Where no one thought for themselves, had their own opinions, their own quirks and faults and interests? ICK! How absotively posatutely BORING would that be?!
For a long time I thought that if anyone was to like me, I had to become what they ‘perceived’ I should be.
There it is again.
What I learned however is that the most important, and really the only, person’s perception that I should worry and care and focus on is that of myself. A little fact: People really actually like me for, well, me.
Whoda thunk, right?
And I’ve got breaking news Barbara Walters-style for you…people really actually like you for, well, you.
I know, right?! Crazy sauce!
It took a good while, and honestly sometimes I still find myself wanting to put myself back into that box of sameness, but whenever I feel the need to hide my weird card, I remember that I am so gosh darn proud to be me. I can rock abnormal like nobody’s business and I totally OWN my weirdness.
For example, here are just some of the things that make me insanely and awesomely weird…
- Whenever I am listening to my i-Pod on my phone and receive a text message, I turn down the volume as to ‘hear’ what the person messaged me.
- Speaking of my i-Pod, I am incapable of listening to any music and not NOT busting out in song, or often times, dance which can make for some interesting PDT: public displays of tunage.
- I can never just eat one Skittle or M&M. I must have an even number of them so that I can divide and conquer them in my mouth, with one (or two or three) on each side. I can’t jip the left side of my mouth and let the right side get all the action after all! So weird, I know.
- When I am walking on a sidewalk, without even consciously knowing it, I avoid stepping on the cracks. I think that that old homage to ‘breaking my mother’s back’ stuck with me more that I thought. And apparently, I like NOT wearing matching socks.
- I can’t go to sleep without saying my prayers first. It’s my nightly talk with God that I really look forward to every night. It’s awful, but sometimes when I am super-duper tired, I start saying them, fall asleep and realize that I didn’t finish my convo with the big man upstairs after waking up the next morning. Let’s just say he’s got me penciled-in in the AM’s now too
- I always ALWAYS have to have something sweet after getting my grub on (my purse has an emergency stash of chocolate for this very reason.)
- If I am wearing a particular Brewer shirt during a game and they win, I don’t wash said shirt until the next loss. Which, if the luck of the unwashed shirt works, won’t be for a very, very long time.
- I can belch so loud, I make the doorbell ring. I petitioned this to be an event in the next Olympics but was sadly shut down. I can’t imagine why?
- I laugh. A lot. Sometimes this can involve snorts, falling off of chairs, and the spewing of milk from my nose and/or mouth. For any injury inquired from innocent bystanders, I am truly sorry.
And that was just the tip of my weird iceberg.
All of these things may not put me on the ‘It’ list in the next issue of People magazine, they may not make me millions of dollars or even make yours truly the most popular kid on the block, but you know what…
…all of these things make me, me.
Wonderfully and awesomely and weirdly me.
And that is something to be proud of.
“Isn’t it strange how we all feel a little bit weird Strange, how we all get a little bit… Strange, ’cause we’re all just a little bit weird sometimes.”
Question of the day: What are some of the things that make you awesomely weird?