Weird should be a battle cry, a rod of power, a force to be reckon with. Yet sadly there are folks that silence, break, and belittle those who step out of some made up line in the social sand.
Folks tear down the unique, and try to silence the quirky. Folks try to step on the daring, and smolder the bright. Yet while this happens everyday, those who are pushed around arise stronger each time.
My struggle with being true is a life long journey. From high school to now, I have changed 100 times over. From social anxiety to ADHD, to all the demons that lie in wait in my memories to torment me, there is a lot going on in the noggin of mine and somehow I’m able to smile.
Throughout the years I have been laughed at, ostracized, and even ignored. Granted, some of this is because of my own actions. However, because I can’t sit still, don’t speak in large groups, and get WAY too carried away with details, I’ve been marked by some with a giant W on my forehead.
The screaming self doubts, the bullying fears, the trampling pride all rush to me. All this comes at the price of being human? Why? This cannot be right.
I am not going to lie, I do not have my life figured out. I struggle every single day. My daily battles are not ones to compare, a badge to wear with pride, nor a thing to pity. Rather, these things are what make me me.
My inability to stay focused on task allows me to be ever curious in conversation.
My disdain for sitting still lets me be a joyous wanderer.
My fear of large groups and the sure stumbling of my words allows me to observe, reflect, and act with care.
These things that I have been mocked for so long, are things folks battle with everyday. Yet I’m the weird one?
No more does your double edged words hold a decisive power in my ears.
No more does your perceived power in your ivory towers of “cool” or “normal” intimidate.
No more will your back bitting, whispering, or snickering claw at my mind and my heart.
I take back that word. I embrace my ever wondering mind. I run when I cannot sit still. I find calm in the storm of people. That power you once use to keep me in a dark corner will not be what stops my love, my laugh, my voice.
No more will I let others dictate what is status quo, what is normal, what is cool. I let loose my quirks, revel in my discomfort, and take hold of the silence.
Weird is no longer your tool of hate and ignorance. Instead, it is my light.
No, I won’t let you hold weIrd as ransom. No I won’t let you throw weIrd with the weight of fear. No I won’t let you have enjoyment with weIrd at my expense.
I am me. Never fully formed, neither ever truly certain. Always in question, always in reflection.
Because I am weIrd, I am me.