“You’re a little weird.”
I paused on the other end of the phone.
“Um, pardon me?”
“You know, like you are for sure not normal.”
I paused again, unsure if I felt insulted or relieved.
One of the reoccurring struggles in my life, and perhaps something that everyone deals with once in a while, is the realization that not everyone likes you. I wrote about why that is okay, but like any insecurity, it can sneak up on you at the most surprising times.
After I hung up the phone on what would be our last conversation, I was much more bothered by the fact that the comment upset me than I was by the actual comment. I thought I had grown. I thought I had found a confidence in the past year that had finally allowed me to accept, without hesitation, the fact that sometimes people simply don’t get along.
And yet here I was. I felt like a little girl. One that had just sat down and smiled at another child, only to have them promptly walk away. I had gone from “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me,” to feeling about three feet tall.
Maybe this was all coming up because of other lessons I had learned in the past year: I let go of trying to put on a face when I meet new people. I used to mold and twist myself to suit someone, often saying whatever I thought they wanted to hear, which never ends well. Eventually, the real you makes an appearance, and it’s hardly fair to blame someone for falling for a mask, and then being disappointed when you remove it.
So the next lesson, which I feel may never end, will be one of self-acceptance. I look back to a year ago, and I think of the hurdles I’ve jumped through to get to a place where I finally feel like myself.
I’ve changed. You’ve changed. People change. And yes, maybe I’m a little weird. But I’d rather be a happy weirdo, ever myself, than a played down version simply to appease others.
And so with that, I will keep being weird, and I hope you will too.
Have a wonderful week,