Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I love learning. I soak up information like a sponge. Ask me a question I don't know the answer to and I'll get to Google to look it up so fast it'll make your head spin. My husband and I built our own breakfast table and chairs because I looked at all the absurdly expensive dining sets at the store and said to myself, "Really, how hard could it be?" I love to learn. I love to challenge myself. Sometimes I fall flat on my face, but I pretty much always learn something - like how to fail with dignity, for instance.
So I've always had a soft spot for documentaries, and I tend to fall into some really deep documentary rabbit holes. Last month was prison documentaries. The month before that was crime scene forensics month. This month I've moved a bit more towards the human interest side of things - this month's rabbit hole has been gender identity and related issues. It has been, not shockingly, much less depressing than prison and crime scene forensics - and that's been a much needed break.
Another thing anyone who knows me should know is that I'm a bit of a gender bender (I went to work today looking pretty much like s lumberjack), so it's interesting to listen to these documentaries and hear people explain things in their own words. And it's made me more acutely aware of the how much I don't fit in - in this case, to traditional gender norms. But in the grander scheme of things, I don't really fit into much of anything. Like, at all.
And you know what? That's okay. It's something I've needed to hear for a very long time. This "whatever" that I am - it's okay to be that way. Really, it is.
I remember back when I was growing up, my mom asked me at one point if I wanted to be a boy. And I remember responding to her with a resounding "YES!" And it's not that I actually wanted to become a boy - I'm quite fine with the equipment I've been given - it's that I've never really felt like a girl. I've never worn dresses or liked bows in my hair. In fact, I've always viewed hair as more of a pain in the ass than anything else. You wouldn't find me playing with Barbie dolls or playing house. Nope, I was too busy building Lego creations, riding my bike and catching bugs and toads. So at that age, I felt if I were given a chance to see if I fit in with the "other side," my immature little brain thought that would be fantastic. But the truth is, I wouldn't have fit in there either. I feel like that's my lot in life - to eternally not fit in.
My parents were, I'm guessing, horrified by that response. That's my guess because that topic was quickly rug-swept and never spoken of again. That confirmed my fear that I wasn't "normal." I realized at that point, that I should try my hardest to push that part of me aside - to try to be "girly" and fit in - or at least be girly enough to not stick out too much. It was just one part of the lifelong struggle to be who everyone else thought I should be, and the childhood struggle to please parents who didn't really care who I was, only that I didn't fit the mold they thought they had signed up for.
It feels like as I've grown older, society (at least American society) has become much more polarized with respect to things that aren't traditionally mainstream. There is a lot more acceptance of people who are different and have been historically marginalized. Our previous president was a pretty good example of this. The first black president and the one who finally federally mandated marriage equality. But on the other hand, it feels like the bigots have a bigger voice than they used to. I feel I need no further proof than our president. Our current Commander in Chief is a man whose approach to women is to "grab 'em by the pussy", whose approach to foreign relations is "build a wall and make them pay for it" and whose approach to transgender soldiers is to tell them that it's more important to fund the military's erections than to medically support the military's transgender population. Not that erections aren't important of course - after all, the future of humanity depends on them.
I try to resist the urge to label myself just for the sake of labeling myself. On the flip side, I feel like it's important to figure things out in order to just understand myself and to realize that I'm not alone. There are other people out there that don't align traditionally with societal norms of whatever nature. Solidarity and shit. And though I don't feel the need to label myself, the truth is that it's hard to feel comfortable in your own skin if you don't even know what your own skin "looks" like.
It's always been a struggle for me. I've never quite fit in. Not with family. Not with classmates. Not with colleagues. Not with other moms (in fact, especially not with other moms). Never. I get along well enough with people but I never fit in quite enough to be important. So I live kind of on the fringes. I'm basically scenery. Sometimes people notice me, but not really enough to miss me when I'm gone.
And I partly blame myself for that - for feeling like I have to be a certain way to be accepted. Because I'm never going to be any good at being anyone but myself. I have to give up on the idea that people, as a whole, are going to accept me as myself. I'm not "normal." I'm just not. And no amount of wanting acceptance is going to make me normal. And no amount of wanting acceptance is going to make people be (generally speaking) open-minded if they aren't already wired to be that way. Ultimately it's about being myself and being okay with however that plays out. And I probably need to give up on trying to find like-minded people and focus on finding open-minded people instead.
But good lord, I've got so far to go.
Inside, I'm still that meek little girl. Afraid she isn't smart enough or talented enough or pretty enough or girly enough. Afraid she's a disappointment - that she's letting people down by not being "whatever" enough. I'm scared to disappoint people. Along with my wonderful, supportive, loving husband comes a whole new group of people that I worry about disappointing. I worry that they'll feel like I'm not good enough for him and he deserves better. I worry that they just flat out won't like me. It's not that I've ever been given any indication of these things from anyone - it's pure insecurity on my part.
I'm starting to realize that part of my struggle for self-acceptance is the fact that those closest to me never really accepted me growing up (many still kind of don't). That left me ripe for sociopathic grooming (my ex), which left me with even less sense of self and virtually non-existent feelings of self-worth. And so here I am, not really knowing who I am or feeling comfortable with the person I'm discovering. Worried that I won't be loved or accepted. Convinced that I'm too old to be "discovering" myself. I mean, aren't we supposed to have that shit figured out by now?
But I don't. And somehow I need to learn to feel like that's okay. I need to realize that people who look like they've got their shit together are probably just much better at facades than I am. I'm not sure if that makes me impressed with them or a little sad for them - because I know how exhausting and soul-sucking it is to constantly be busting ass just to keep up appearances.
Being in a state of constant flux and personal evolution can be kind of exhausting too, though. It's certainly pretty isolating sometimes. I mean, it's hard to find like minded people when you don't really know what your own mind is like.
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