Whispers of delirious wisdom...

I was so excited to dress up to leave the house today. I have been broke so going anywhere hasn’t really been an option for me. I got on a green dress and black little jacket with a cute headband and dolled myself up. Tom and I went to Target first for printer ink since I need to buy it to print out my resume. I was strutting my stuff down the aisles when I realized people were looking at me weird, like I was some kind of alien. I all of a sudden got very self conscience and didn’t want to be dress up anymore.

I didn’t outwardly express this, but my insides were turning. Why can a trailer trash mom with a side ponytail and a Donald duck t-shirt make me feel so unfashionable. I then realized after looking around and seeing fairly large women with cheetah print spandex pants, and men with mullets and NASCAR shirts that I was in fact the outcast here.

Sometimes I forget how it can feel to be the odd one out. It makes me remember my days in middle school where I would be happy to just have one friend to talk to and would give anything to not feel scared of how people look at me. I know I am weird and I normally am proud to wear that moniker, but I was not always like that, and when I am caught off guard it brings up so many memories.

I now sit here at home thinking about being an outcast and all the memories attached to it. I realize now how much I have triumphed and defeated a lot of these feelings of failure over the years and am truly happy to just be me. Everyone has trials to overcome and I know I have many more that have yet to arise but I feel comfortable saying that I won’t let any looks or scuffs deter me from being myself.