So Different

A friend once asked me, “Why do you always have to be so different?” We were at a burger place and I wanted to order some chicken fingers. His question took me pretty much off guard. I don’t think I saw myself as different or weird at that point in my life. Unique perhaps. I remember owning the way I was… the seriousness I usually presented along with my love of fun and humor. I was comfortable with myself, and I didn’t think about it much. I simply wanted some chicken fingers.

Maybe it was his question that sparked the doubt that I wasn’t quite normal. Maybe it was just my brain restructuring itself as I grew older. Maybe something else. Anyway, the view of myself changed. I became different and weird in my eyes. I began perceiving my modus operandi as being an oddball, all the time.

So is my “view askew”, as Kevin Smith says. I don’t think so. I think I’m quite sane and present. I just have a wide variety of interests and curiosity in things. And strangely enough (hehe), I usually indulge them. It probably looks to the rest of the world like I’m acting normal. Not particularly sticking out. “Just doing his thang” as they put it. But this doesn’t mean I’m not self-conscious. It consumes me. Sometimes it’s hard to focus on anything else. But I think the “just do it” part of me lingered from when I was comfortable with myself. And I’m very glad it did.

Because, otherwise, I’d be frozen. Afraid to do anything. Having to conform all the time. Now I just “act normal” part of the time… I still have that self-conscience-ness (hehe), but other times I just let it go and “act weird”. I am myself.

So this morning, as my family looked on questionly (hehe), I made a turkey sandwich on some cinnamon-raisin bread. And you know what, it tasted great.

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