Owning your Weird

        No one likes being called weird. I didn't either. What does it mean though?

    Weird: Suggesting something supernatural or unearthly. 

    I like black coffee and amongst my peers that has made me weird. Is it unearthly though? From the millions and billions that populate this planet, there are people that like black coffee. 

    I think we should redefine what weird means.

    Weird: something that isn't normal. 

    But then isn't black coffee normal? It's not like I am drinking eucalyptus oil.

    So if weird is something that is unearthly or abnormal, and if black coffee is normal, then how come it's weird. 

    How come I am weird when I walk amongst the tree when I wake up, How come I am weird, when there's a constant inner dialogue, How come I am weird for wanting a different path, How come I am weird for preferring Rangoon creeper over Roses, solitude over company?

    Things that make me different, things that make me, me have always been seen as weird or out of ordinary; and yes, viewed as a trait not to be encouraged. So when people call you crazy or weird for knowing eccentric facts and myths, for not being religious, for how peaceful you are on your own, for how wrong it is to have opinions that are different from the masses; you learn to hide. To live in the shadow. 

    All this crazy, gets bottled up and stored in the farthest corner of the mind. But we all have been that person who wants a specific brands' product. That's when the dust covered bottle is opened and the shopkeeper, for once doesn't feel like a fool for owning this one bottle for so long. The loyalty of a customer,  however,

never is permanent. And so the customer leaves, the bottle returns to its corner, and the shopkeeper questions if 'weird was what drew them away'.

    Questions, and the answers unattainable. You spend ages, thinking your 'weird' is what pushes people away. In a world of squares and circles you are freeform, a changing shape. But to be accepted you have to be either a square or circle. And so you be that, even though it is exhausting to hold onto that form that represses some parts of you. Until you reach a breaking point, until fitting in feels suffocating. But can you complain or ask for help? No, that's just the way of the world. We were taught to fear the witches not the people who burnt them. You live, with a battle ragging on inside you, and you the sole survivor and the sole victim. That's me. 

    Here's a thing though, only few have lived through this battle and only few understand it. And as fate would have it, this people are rare, scattered across your life. 

    But until then, you have to travel alone, and the road is long and lonely. But I am hoping it will get easier if I stop being a square or a circle and be freeform, if I own my weirdness as something that makes me, me and not that which sets me apart. I am hoping I can remember the next words and repeat them whenever I am struggling. 

I am queer. I am weird. That's who I am.
I am happy, I am sad. And everything in between and beyond.
I am smart, I am dumb,
I live in the grey area.
I am what I choose to be, I walk the path I want to.
Wrong turns, accidents are part of life.
No longer shall I hide, but walk in the light;
No matter what, I'll live my truth.