That's what the dictionary says "weird" is. That's me.
Why am I happy to be weird? I do like to say the word (it's on my favorites list), but that's not the only reason.
Being weird makes me happy:
Because it's fun and can get me through the day.
Because it's always a good thing to not take myself so seriously.
Because I'm being true to myself when I acknowledge that part of me.
When am I weird?
Weird is when I get silly and laugh, taking a quick break from being grown-up before I get back to business.
Weird is when I'm confident and open to possibilities, refusing to be overwhelmed by all the natural uncertainty around me.
Weird is when I'm not afraid to be different and follow my own instincts, standing up for what I believe in.
Weird is when I get excited and passionate about an idea and want to share that with others, motivating them and getting them psyched up for something that can be really good.
I know when others are looking at me thinking, "She's weird." Don't think I don't. But that just makes me chuckle. Or might make me weirder.
How did I come to think of myself as weird and decide it was okay to be me?
I remember as a child some other kid telling me I was weird when I shared something I was thinking about.
I can't say I even remember who that was or what I shared, but I do know how I felt when it was said to me and what the outcome of that interaction was.
In a split second I had to think about what that meant to be called weird and decide how to respond.
Was I crushed that this one thought I was weird?
Was I embarrassed, ready to crawl under a rock?
Was I angry? Defensive?
All of these thoughts flashed before me and, in hindsight, any of those would have been acceptable reactions for a young child.
But, no. I didn't know how it all would turn out, but I knew that none of those reactions were right for me.
I responded "Thank you!" with a big smile on my face.
Ha! That got me a "You are really weird!"
I grinned from ear to ear. I decided then I would be weird and be fine with that. It was a good thing!
I even remember later in my bedroom, laughing hard in the mirror at myself that I was weird! Thinking back on that scene, I really was weird!
But, kid that I was, I must have felt good about how I had handled that challenge. I must have felt stronger that I didn't sell out and deny who I was.
I am who I am.
If you've been reading, you know that one of my favorite things in life is when I laugh with family and friends, when we all get weird. You just can't plan it or try too hard, though. It has to happen organically, in its own time, when it wants to.
Love me or leave me. I'm weird. And I like it.
At least I'm not strange. Or am I?
If you think I am strange, thank you! She says, while she grins ear to ear.
And I'll be laughing at myself as I picture you reading this, saying "She's weird!"
Until next time, yours in fun and weirdness...Therese
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