I’m not cool. Never have been. Not asking for sympathy or pity. Don’t want any. As I approach the 41st anniversary of trips around the sun, I am recognizing who or what I am. I am a MISFIT.
I wanted to be cool when I was a kid in school. I realize now, I wanted to belong. Those two are not the same thing. I wanted friends, which I had. I wanted to be accepted, which I was by some. I wanted to be seen. I was picked on a lot. I was bullied. I was shamed and put down. But I also had godly friends that surrounded me. I had people who encouraged and lifted me up on bad days.
And oddly enough, I was friends with people from almost every clique in high school. I never belonged to any of them. And by the time I got to college, I knew half the campus. I wasn’t invited to tons of parties. But the ones I did attend, I found it was more entertaining to be the stone-cold sober one, laughing at the drunks who didn’t know why they were crying. Still, I made friends. Being an outgoing misfit is an interesting dichotomy. I don’t belong, yet I make myself known.
But now? Now I know being a misfit isn’t a bad thing. I’ll never be popular. But I have dear friends. I have a husband who tells me, “You’re not like any other woman I’ve known.” He’s right! And I’m glad.
Being a misfit means I’m irreplaceable. It means no one else will ever be my kids’ mom. It means no one will love Lino the way this misfit heart does. It means my friends know exactly who and what I am and choose to love me BECAUSE of, not in spite of it. It means my writing and editing clients can’t find anyone else like me!
It’s sometimes hard...always feeling like the inviter, instead of the invitee. But I can either invite people and be grateful they accept or complain I don’t have a social life. I can wait passively or make pleasant things happen in my life.
Sure, I still hear, “I always forget you live so close!” (By the way, never say this to someone. If you think it, fine. But don’t tell someone they’re forgettable!) But I also hear lots of “yes’s” when I ask my besties if they want to get together.
I’m quirky and weird. I have purple hair and tattoos. (And just for the record, they are not what makes me a misfit. Rather, I probably have them because I AM a misfit...) It has been decades in the making to feel comfortable in this skin. It has taken a lot to feel worthwhile and undo the years of bullying and the unkind words that were spoken to me during those formidable years. (And if you don’t think words matter, especially to kids, you’re grossly mistaken!) But I was fortunate. I had people who loved me unconditionally, who spoke opposing words of encouragement and life when I was told I was unworthy.
We rarely pause and have our breath stolen by a sunset because it is like every other one we've seen before. We take note because it's unique, because it's like nothing we've ever seen or will ever see again. We seek the unicorn because it is unusual and rare.
So, speak life. Believe truth. Watch the sunset. Seek unicorns. Be a misfit!