“In the face of such hopelessness as our eventual, unavoidable death, there is little sense in not at least trying to accomplish all of your wildest dreams in life.”
When I was in college, I had this friend. He and I got along great – we could hang out for hours, disagree without arguing, and in general, it was good times.
One day, he confided in me that he used to me “more like me”. That he used to not try as hard to fit in, that he would say awkward things, and make uncomfortable observations, but he grew out of it.
As if who I am is something to grow out of.
I’ve always been quite proud of the fact that I am who I am, and that I don’t
change who I am for who I am with.
You see, everyone’s got those parts of them that are… different. Or weird. Or kooky. Or “special”. And I feel like the first 25 years of my life, I at least made a modest effort to “fit in”. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the years since, it’s this:
Who freaking cares.
Did Einstein “fit in”? NO! What about Beethoven? Or Marie Curie? Or Marilyn Monroe? Or in modern times, did Steve Jobs fit in? Did he follow the examples of the masses? Does Elon Musk, or Mark Zuckerberg? Fit in, try not to draw attention to yourself….
The list will go on and on. You see, trying to be like everyone else never made anyone happy. It just makes most people dissatisfied and resentful. Because the absolute truth is this:
We are all freaks.
And the sooner we accept that, the sooner we’ll start loving ourselves for who we are.
Now, I’m not saying we’ll all be film stars or math geniuses or CEOs, or eccentric billionaires. I’m also not saying you shouldn’t try to improve, and better yourself. But I am saying that part of the joy in life is that no one but you gets to pick what to change. You get to choose what would make you more authentic. And I, for one, think the world needs more authenticity.
Friends who have found this small corner of the internet, why not try to accomplish your dreams? Why not be your weirdest, most authentic you?
And so, from my little RV parked in a snow bank in Canada’s wine country, here is my battle cry:
Let your freak flag fly.