Growing up, I never fit in much because I moved around a lot. When I moved to California, I was eight. I didn’t speak any English. I didn’t know the cruel world outside my sleepy, innocent Dutch suburban elementary school.
The first thing I heard on the first day of school was:
“You’re not cool.” I didn’t even know what cool meant, what concept it even referred to. Later, I found out that “cool” was wearing Limited Too sweat suits and speaking in a baby voice. What the flying fuck?
One kid made fun of me for eating my vegetables. “Ew, you’re eating those?” I looked with shame at the peas I was eating from the shitty, microwaved tin plates they call “lunch” in public schools.
Another one made fun of me for reading a book that was slightly under third grade level at the time. Can’t a kid just indulge in some goddamn light summer reading when she’s learning a new language? Nothing like the embarrassment of the teacher telling me to go put it away in front of the whole class, either.
I could go into all the stories about growing up as a generally weird kid. Coming home from school dances in middle school because none of the cute boys prepubescent, clueless twats in middle school asked me to dance. Or hanging off the side of a chain of linked arms that girls always made when they went to lunch.
Today, my weirdness has made me better. It’s made my writing better. It’s made my jokes better. It’s made my overall personality better.
And why is this all attributable to being weird? It’s because everyone’s weird is his or her own weird.
When you’re weird you write your own rules.
You say things because you want to say them – not because you think it’s socially acceptable to.
You do things you want to – not because everyone else told you to.
When you accept your weirdness, you accept yourself for who you are.
And being weird doesn’t only have to do with how you look physically.
It’s what you add to the world through your existence; not your outfits. You recognize that there are enough boring herds of sheep. And you’re not going to tag along for the sake of acceptance.
Note: No herds of sheep or boring people were hurt during the writing of this article.