For a long time, I didn't do the things I felt inclined to do. I suppressed inclination and instead acted out of obligation. I did what was expected, not what was in my heart. This is a pretty common course of action—so if you're doing it too, don't beat yourself up.
This meant that I was willfully moving through life not being me. And, uhh, that didn't feel good. At all.
So even though everything in the world was steering me to go right, if my gut whispered "go left", I started to listen. And I began to set my weirdness free:
I started dancing. A lot. And not just on dance floors. In the car. On mountaintops. In grocery stores too if the radio had a rad song. I just danced. And people looked. And pointed. And smirked. And it didn't matter, because it felt so good. And it wasn't weird to me.
I started singing my sentences. Not like bold arias worthy of an audience. I would just give my everyday sentences a boost with a little diddy carrying my story along. It would make the people I was talking to giggle a little or roll their eyes. They thought I was mega weird. But it felt good, so I kept doing it. And it wasn't weird to me.
- I started climbing mountains. Big ones. Because I wanted to, even though people thought it was crazy or that I wasn't capable. It did it any way, because—you guessed it—it felt good. And it didn't seem weird to me.
Truth is, I did all sorts of weird things, really. (Or, rather, things that other people thought were weird but that i felt were just natural expressions of me). I wrote handwritten notes to people I don't know to tell them they mattered to me and I didn't care if that was weird because it was true. I sent gifts to strangers because it felt right. I wore long socks with short shorts. And I didn't put on a stitch of make up at my friend's wedding. I did the crossword puzzle in the corner of the local cafe whilst chewing on the pen lid every Wednesday and I liked it. A lot.
Being weird is all kinds of wonderful
Because those "weird" bits about you aren't actually weird at all. They're human. They're you. They're unique, special characteristics that only you have, you lucky sap. And not everyone is gonna love them. And not everyone is going to think they're great. But trust me: They are great. You are great. Weird is great.
You are not a lemming.
So do your thing. Dance if you want to. Sing your sentences. Bag peaks and get your fingernails dirty. Do what floats your boat, baby—wear mismatching socks, get tattoos, wake up criminally early to watch sunrises because damn it lights you up. Paint your toenails blue. Dye your hair pink. Play dominos with the oldies because you really like the company.
Because it's not weird at all.
In fact, it's right.