When I first arrived in Normal, I couldn’t help but think about that word: “normal”. What is normal? I think about that a lot actually. What fun would it be to be normal?
I think at a certain age you stop caring. Not that you stop caring about what people think of you but you stop caring about what you think of you. You stop being so self-depreciative. You realize that you are who you are. Someone may call you a name and that hurts but you know it is better than when you call yourself that name. That one unforgiveable transgression can spark a fire. You look at yourself differently when you are your own bully.
I overhear this a lot on campus and I am sure you have as well. Someone tells themselves they are dumb or they point out the flaws in others but, quite often, these flaws are because someone does not fit into the mold. That mold that we have to fit in is straining and suffocating. When you look in the mirror, you should see yourself and not what others want you to see. Take down those social mirrors.
I am not sure if it is age or just a personal epiphany but I must say that it is refreshing to meet individuals who do not look into that mirror. Those individuals who walk a little differently and talk a little differently. The ones that you can never quite get them down. You think you have them figured out and then they surprise you.
Is that weird?
Some find it disconcerting that individuals are like that. We stereotype people because it helps us understand them at a first glance. We categorize what should have no category.
Normal. I find it funny that we abnormal individuals live in a place called Normal. Wear your funky colors and let your freak flag fly because, as Dr.Seuss says, “There is no one you are than you.”
Is that weird? I hope so!