We grew up with the Disney Channel constantly reminding us on their annoying and too-frequent commercials to just “be yourself.” We grew up with the Genie telling Aladdin (also Disney, wouldn’t ya know it) to just “beeeee” himself. We grew up with everyone telling us to just be ourselves. So many selves, so little time.
After generations attempted to be socially normalized, more people grew to crave the abnormal. People didn’t want to be just normal anymore.
The grand majority of my generation wants to be “unique.” And, everyone who was made fun of and called “weird” in elementary or high school eventually embraced their weirdness, to a point. The weirdos became unique, and, dare I say it, cool. I did that. I was weird and still am, but how can’t you be when you were home-schooled until 8th grade? (I mean that in the “cool” sense of the word, mind you. My un-coolness has nothing to do with my being previously home-schooled.)
Amidst the struggle of becoming the “unique-est,” what people don’t realize is that the weird they’re exposing has matured into a societal do. It’s trendy to be a dork, a weirdo, a creep… JK, JK on that last one. I just wanted to see if you were still paying attention.
Anyway, it’s trendaliscious to be dorkaliscious, nerdaliscious, among other lisciouses. It wasn’t right away, but it certainly is now — if you’re the RIGHT kind of weird, that is.
Are you the right kind of weird? Your weird is only popular if it is. Otherwise, your weird is too weird.
Turns out, the right kind of weird isn’t weird at all. The weird weird is really weird, though.
Though we try to be set apart (in a non-loner sort of way), we still have major walls built up to protect our vulnerability. We don’t want others to see our serious, maybe sentimental sides for fear of being laughed at or considered corny. Many of us have used humor as a means of protection against others trampling our actually tender feelings. Yes, that’s right. Tender.
With the meat hammer of life came an inward tenderness we seldom let show, even to those closest to us. We’ve become so accustomed to confining this lonesome-dove side of ourselves to the darkest corners of our beings that we don’t even realize we’re holding it back from our favorite people. The raw side of ourselves. Raw meat. We typically only show the cooked side of our emotions.
Exposing that portion of our hearts would seem too… weird (not the seemingly popular kind of weird, P.S.).