A million years ago when I was back in high school, I never really fit in with any of the typical groups. Granted, I was in the High Honors which meant that all of my classes were accelerated. Yes, I was a nerd. I did have friends in most of the usual groups: the jocks, the punks, etc. But I was never a full fledged member of any of them. I did manage to surround myself with keen people though and we sort of formed our own little group. We were like the rejects of the school and found our own strength together. Today these would be celebrated by Lady Gaga but back then, we were just the ones who didn’t fit into a box.
As I grew older, I started to get into my own. I was a model for a time and moved in those socialite circles, although I was always fringe. I was gay and involved in the community but never fit with the pretty boys, nor the muscle studs, and found myself accepted by the leather community in Chicago. I’m always thankful to them for that and supportive of their causes as a result of their care and attention. It seemed to me then, as it does to me now, that I’m still a person who doesn’t quite fit completely with any particular group or category. I’m happy, in a way, for this. I’m a natural chameleon who can change himself to suit the circumstances or environment if need be. The downfall to this is that if I do that for too long, I lose perspective on who I actually am.
This did happen in my youth. I tried to be so many things for so many different people that I lost sight of who I was. I spent a long time recovering from that and to get back to basics of who I am. Today I find myself once again trying to see if there’s a place for me in this world or even the gay community.
I consider myself unconventional in most regards, especially in my thought processes and line of thinking. I’m not one party or another politically. I’m not of any particular belief system or religion. I’m not straight-acting, nor am I femme. I’m not outwardly gay nor am I a banner waver. I’m not keenly intellectual all the time, and not a raving lunatic when I suppose I should be. I dress in dark colors, often topped with a long black coat (leather or wool). My hair isn’t a modern style, it’s my own design and taste, complete with my eternal rat’s tail. I have to wear dark glasses at all times when I’m in the light since my eyes are highly sensitive to light, giving people the impression that I’m either a Matrix worshipper or having delusions of Roy Orbison. Suffering from cPTSD I have the habit of reacting when I should take a step back, but don’t always catch it in time. I can go from senuous flirt to cold bitch in a millisecond.
So, in fact, I’m weird. And I totally celebrate my weirdness. I embrace it. It’s my armor. Though people may scoff or even shy away, it doesn’t matter to me. I have my integrity and the love of myself. I don’t particularly want to subscribe to anyone else’s point of view. While I conform to the laws of the land, I won’t follow any laws of society that tell me that I have to invalidate my person. And I’ll always be on the fringe, always just one foot in any place while the other is bridging the gap somewhere else.
So all you strange ones, all you weird ones; the people who don’t quite fit the old, and the people who don’t know where you belong; to you I say, you belong wherever you feel you should be. If that’s alone and enjoying the day in the sun or with friends at a club, never compromise yourself to fit anyone’s view of what you should be. Learn to love yourself for both your talents and your flaws. Accept that there’s things about you that need work and get to it, even with another to lend a hand. We all fall, we all scrape our knees. We all make mistakes. Being a flawed and unusual creature is what makes life so interesting. And here’s a side note…. the higher powers put flaws in the recipe for a reason. Diversity!
I keep ya guessing