Weird’s the word

Do you think I’m weird, he asked me. Who’s not, I responded. Wow! How poignant! Not really. The W word gets thrown in my face quite often, for me, to me, for people around me, by people around me. Enough to send anybody with a slightly lower degree of self-esteem than mine to go spiralling down the abyss of self-questioning and self-doubt.
It was a standing joke with an ex that you had to be ‘weird’ to be my friend. Another said he kept coming back to me because he liked ‘weird’. When I playfully suggested what fun it would be to attend the latter’s wedding, The Princess was horrified, “You’re weird!” Okay, so I’m weird, now watcha gonna do about it?! “Nothing,” smiled back The Wise One. What’s there to do anything about?
Well, we’re all weird, aren’t we? It’s our quirks that make us weird. But it’s also our quirks that give us our individuality. My obsession with having my finger and toe nails painted the same colour might be weird to you, but then that’s me! The day I turn up with pink toes and red fingers, wouldn’t you wonder what’s wrong??? My self-obsession might be weird to another, but, for me, it’s what keeps me from sweating the small stuff. That I can just dance around the house may be weird to you, but the day I don’t do it, The Mother wonders if all’s okay with me.
Nin quit job after job, and botched up that crucial interview, the one everybody felt was going to be a breeze for her and that would get her where everybody thought she should’ve been. The W word came up again. But what was weird about it? She didn’t feel she belonged where the world thought she did. She had other ideas, and she’s is in a much happier place today for it!
The Princess spent an entire evening flirting with a rather acceptable boy. But when he offered to drop her home, she chickened out. Weird, again! But she just felt more comfortable going back with the same people she’d come to the party with. Did she miss out on anything? Not really.
Coming back to the person who inspired this post. I call him Weirdo, just because he’s convinced of his own ‘weird’-ness, and the name has a nice ring to it. Weirdo’s concern is that he lives in his own head, so much that the world doesn’t matter. But should it? I’ve always lived with the conviction that you can do what you want to and be the way you want to, as long as you can keep looking yourself in the eye every time you look at the mirror. Nobody and nothing else matters. So then, how does it matter if he lives in his head? If he’s a dreamer?
Isn’t conformity just so overrated? Why would you even want to conform, especially if it’s at the risk of losing your individuality? Sure, we all do things to please others. Must we not do things that please us because they might displease others or cause them to call us weird? Who’s to decide what’s weird and what’s not? And if you do think I’m weird, so be it. You’re most welcome to raise your eyebrow, while I revel in my weirdness 🙂

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