The Weird Ones Manifesto - essay

 

I am a weirdo and I am proud of it. And yet, in my years of being on this planet, I realized that there were many who weren't happy with how I lived my life (or at least tried to). Ever have those friends who just wish you would fit in with everyone else? Why do you dress like you're attending a funeral? Why are you so happy all the time? Why are you wasting your time painting, or taking theatre classes, or whatever else? Then, there are those who think that they should guide you in your mess of a life. They swoop down upon you with "concern" and that hey, I'm JUST like you, so you need to listen to me because I've done it all. And yes, while they may have good advice, they are also there to control you. And, when you stop listening to them, they begin to belittle you, criticize you for your choices, or insult you behind your back (or right in your face). Then, you have those people who are family to you - they are the sticky ones. They see you as different and yet they don't understand . . . and they don't want to. Why don't you get a house? Why don't you get a pet? What's wrong with you? Why are you so quiet? Why aren't you into what I'm into? And on and on and bloody on. 

You think there's something wrong with you. You are a freak, a stranger in a strange land, and why would anyone want to be with you or even know you? You cry, you drink, you do drugs because it's easier to numb it all rather than face your weirdness. After several years of this, you wake up one day, go outside to smoke a cigarette in a junky garage, and you tell yourself - NO MORE. You feel a gentle hand on your back; there's no pressure there, or even criticisms directed at you. The hand is a reminder to return to yourself. And so, you get up on shaky legs and you begin the return walk to yourself. Now begins the real trial. Those same people yelling at you for years will yell even louder, telling you that you're full of bullshit, that all of your friends are losers, and that your choices of boyfriends are horrible.  You hold your head high and continue to walk your path, ignoring the yells and screams till one by one, they finally leave you alone. Some will try to "punish" you by taking things away from you. Yet you ask yourself - was it ever mine to begin with, or was it all air filling an old balloon?

You have returned to yourself and you realize that YES, you are strange and unusual. YES, you love to paint in your own way. YES, you can listen to advise yet the choice will always fall to you and not anyone else. YES, people will gravitate to you because damn it, you have something that they need and can't find within themselves. YES, you will make mistakes and fuck up repeatedly, yet you continue to get up and dust yourself off as you learn the lesson. YES, you will find others who are just like you, dancing to their own beat. They will wave and smile at you and hopefully, you'll wave and smile back as you dance along. Some people will never get you, they will never understand you, and that's okay. When you finally realize that the one thing holding you back was you listening to the toxic voices, you will take that first clean breath. That first clean breath will feel scary at first, yet keep on doing it. Keep on embracing your messy creative life. When someone comes up to you and tries to control you, or belittle you, or tell you that you're wasting time, just smile and go on. 

Go on, go on, go on. Don't look back. 

Welcome to the Weird Ones. 

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