You ever wonder what happened to that weird boy or girl you went to school with? You know that one kid that marched to the beat of a slightly different drummer than most. That one kid you were always a little hesitant to talk to and when you did it was simply for your own amusement; not because you were genuinely interested in who they were. You ever wonder what happened to them or what they are up to now? I was one of those weird kids.
It is not a title I eagerly embraced as a child, it was just a fact of life I grew to accept. From the time I became school age I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was always the new kid. By the time I graduated high school I had attended roughly 15 different schools. My adolescent was a constant state of adjustments. Being the new kid every other semester was particularly daunting.When my mother decided to move to Texas the summer before my 6th grade year, I had become completely withdrawn from the social experience. In doing so I think it garnered more attention instead of diverting it. The cultural transition from the diversity of the West Coast that allowed me and my awkward ways to blend into the shadows, had now positioned a spotlight on me when we moved to the conservative and conforming culture of the south.
"All I had growing up was my exquisite imagination and my Prince music."
By the time I reached high school, I had embraced my uniqueness. As a child of divorce I split my time between Los Angeles and Dallas. My father recognized my budding unicorn horn, so he made sure I attended Fairfax High School in the heart of Unicorn City. By the end of that school year my horn was in amazing form and I flaunted it proudly. However, the following year I was forced to return to the conforming, conservative pastures of Texas. I'm not saying that there aren't unicorns in Texas but my observation indicated that the unicorns were often convinced that they were just like any other horse and not the wonderful mystical creatures they were.
Because we live in a world that must define the existence of others with a label, I found that my personality was a little difficult to ascertain. It is for that reason I was classified as "weird." When we as humans don't understand or can not relate to something we instantly refer to it as weird, strange or different. While I have no problem with being called any of those adjectives, it is the context and tone in which it is referenced that can be painful.
I was sometimes naively unaware that I was being insulted.. so when a boy I liked would say "uh, you're different" I would instinctively take it as a compliment until I took notice of the uncomfortable look on his face. Or when I'd try to befriend a girl that would turn up her nose and scowl "you're weird!" I could feel a tinge of disappointment with each syllable.
As a young adult I tried to balance what was instinctual to me with who I was expected to be and that came off as dark, cryptic and mysterious. That's cool, if I was going for the whole "dark mistress of the night" appeal. But when my inner essence oozed from the pores of my being because I craved a level of happiness that could only exist in my truest state, it displayed an overwhelming sense of neediness, clingy-ness and insecurities which often had me functioning on my delusions and hyper-sex drive.
"You see a unicorn can't exist by denying and being dishonest with its core."
The brilliance in the spirit of a unicorn will either thrive and blossom in our truest form or wither and die trying to be something that we are not. I almost withered and died. There were probably many saving graces that kept me from doing so but the most liberating freedom was simply loving myself for who I truly was and aspired to be. That is often easier said than done when the world has stamped you a "weirdo", "different" or "strange" for so very long. When I finally decided to master in the skill of "NGAF" (Not Giving A F*ck) and enjoying the sagacity of ME!! I went back to school attained my Bachelors Degree in Fine Arts, wrote/published two books and met/married a beautiful being that embraced the flourishing creature I was meant to be.
The universe has blessed me with the task of nurturing my own stable of unicorns and I encourage them to be the most unique creatures their heart desires.
"I encourage them to embrace their own interpretation of happiness and don't let anyone define it for them."
So if my unicorn instincts serves me as accurate, that weird kid you knew is thriving. Most unicorns are resilient and intelligent, most likely doing unimaginable things to make their world a happier, pleasant place. They are more than likely communing with other unicorns because the law of attraction is masterful in that way.
I would like to also point out that in this social media frenzy that promotes freedom of speech and thoughts, the cadence in which you reference someone as weird, strange or different can resonate in a troublesome way so be gentle when addressing a unicorn. We are sensitive creatures that aspire happiness. We are not harmful to you or ourselves. Being weird or different is not contagious or a condition. We are all unique in perspective, we just embrace it differently.
Login with a social network