Being different, being weird… it’s hard sometimes. When no one can relate, and everyone thinks you’re crazy. When you have dozens of ‘friends’, but nobody understands your heart. I can’t explain the struggle and the pain. I guess everyone wrestles with it to a degree, but not like this. My worldview is so totally and completely counter cultural, even to the Christian mainstream perception. It’s a choice I’ve made. I could pretend to blend in, I could easily compromise and become like them. Some of who they are isn’t even wrong, it’s just so not me. My lifestyle is wholly different from any of yours, my priorities aren’t like the rest of the world. This realization has hit me before; it’s hitting me again with stunning clarity. I’m not like them. God made us all different-snowflakes they like to say, but he made me so strange that the rest of the snowflakes stand and gawk. That’s where it gets funny: the strangeness isn’t entirely struggle and pain; it brings on an awful lot of laughter too.
Sitting at a table with a group of people roughly my age the conversation inventibly turned to me. It always ends up there at some point. See, they don’t really know what to do with me, but they want to know more so they ask questions. I answer. The looks on their faces… I can’t even describe. It’s like I’m an alien from a foreign planet, especially when we talk about my lack of any romantic life. I don’t think they’ll ever understand it. I try to explain, but our priorities are just so black and white different. The way we seek to fulfill desire… I could laugh or cry but it’s easier to laugh-though I try not to laugh too hard. It’s not their fault that their small brains can’t wrap around my life. I don’t even try to understand me; it’s just too hard.
It’s interesting though, another realization I’ve made recently regarding these college bound crazies that I’ve spent five days a week with these last nine months: they accept me. Initially I get a lot of different reactions to my weirdness, but in the end it doesn’t matter. I’ve accepted them for who they are; I haven’t tried to change them, and in return they’ve accepted me-even the parts they can’t understand. Walking up towards forty-four of them a couple of weeks ago, realizing how many I’d come to know, and hearing them calling my name. It was an eye-opening experience. Yes, being different is still hard, and yes it’s still hilarious, but their acceptance lessens the burden a bit. I don’t know how else to explain it. Acceptance makes my grapplings to comprehend God’s plan in this a little less significant. Maybe you’ve never experienced what I’ve written above, or maybe it relates to you completely, but can I make one plea at the end of all this? No matter what shape of snowflake you are, can you do me a favor, and accept those around you? Judgementalness never got anyone anywhere, but acceptance can change the world.