I was recently introduced to a very fascinating person. She came into a meeting like an absolute hurricane. A blizzard of big hair, noticeable perfume and lots and lots of things – a purse, a bag, a folder, a jacket, gloves, a scarf, the kitchen sink.
She arrived late and it took her some time to settle in. Someone like me would probably blush if I walked into a meeting that late – and with that much disorganization. But not her.
She was disruptive, but not necessarily rude, as she asked us to start over with our introductions. Which was actually fine because I was dying to know who she was, what she did, why she was there.
Her contributions to the meeting were many. She is clearly not timid. And she is definitely fearless. Although I didn’t always agree with her, I did notice one thing we have in common.
She’s odd. I’m odd.
The difference is she makes no apologies for it. She is who she is. And that’s it. She never seems to waiver. She never hesitates. She just says, does, reacts. No matter how different it makes her seem.
In my case, maybe “odd” isn’t the right word. “Weird” has been tossed around before. Same with “dork.” But I prefer “interesting”. Or as an old drinking friend told me when we first met having beers at a little place called Skippy’s: “Young lady, I find you very intriguing.”
Yes, he was classy. But then, so am I.
Whatever the description, I’ve decided to embrace this part of myself. I remember doing one of those exercises in a high school religion class where we all wrote down what we liked about each of our classmates. It was an assignment of good old-fashioned affirmations. I think the one I was happiest with was written by my best friend, Rachel. “Unique” was the word she used.
Now, in my 30s, I can easily see myself gravitating toward the ways of this interesting woman from the other day. It scares me a little. And I wonder if it means I will no longer try and hide talking to myself. Perhaps it means I’ll embrace the long stares I slip into when I’m deep in thought. And maybe I’ll be okay with the fact that I never stop thinking. Ever.
And I haven’t even gotten into the obsessive stuff like counting things, being drawn to even numbers and not being able to switch mind gears very easily.
So my goal for 2009 is to embrace my differences. And hope they don’t lead to big hair, overpowering perfume or a whirlwind approach later in life.
But if they do, oh well.
Unscripted 