I have always considered myself an individual and part outcast. I embrace the label because why be the same as everyone else? Why not be yourself?
And plus, being part outcast, I love hanging out with all sorts of people. Even the ones people find weird. I think I’m personally quite weird too, except that I can adapt to different type of situations and people and blend in. So basically, I never considered myself a part of a particular group of people. I just have different groups of people to hang out with. I’m comfortable to do that and I’ll keep doing that. I belong to no group.
I used to be the type that has a group. And in a group, you do things together. Things changed and I realized I like individuality. I like uniqueness and non-conformity. I like being able to do things my way without waiting for someone to agree on.
I remember having to face this issue whereby the assumed leader of the group says, “We’re all wearing black tomorrow,” and you have to do it, because you are part of the pack. The problem was, I never felt like part of the pack so I parted ways and just went on my own and made friends for life. There were still a presence in my life, whereby I do talk to them and greet them but after a while, you do realize that they slowly forget about you because you never do what they do. Fine by me. I like being with the others because it feels like I can open up myself more easily, willingly and comfortably. Sometimes, it feels like there’s this invisible hierarchy in a group where you have to keep getting involve to feel somewhat “whole”. I guess it also has to do with my love affair of being free-spirited. I tend to admire flying birds and butterflies because of the freedom they seem to have.
Years back, there was once when I stayed back at school. A few of my classmates stayed back too for their own reasons. I have to say I admired the me back then. During that time, I thought I was having a tough time. (Honestly, I was.) But looking back, I realized I was actually one tough, independent girl-boss. I say that because I was in the same class as people who hurt my feelings for four years. It was agonizing but worth it because it brought me to where I am. Being bad – as in not giving a damn was exhilarating. Anyways, two girls in my class turned to me and told me about their plans to get me back with my ex-bestfriend. I laughed and said, “Nah. It’s okay. I’m fine.” I really meant it because after a year or two, I started to enjoy and embrace the power of being a part outcast that is able to hang out with anyone. It made me feel powerful, like I didn’t need to find a place of belongingness. I guess that’s where I started being more of an outgoing introvert.
I wish I was that girl once again. I still am, but I feel as if it’s wavering lately, standing on shaky ground.
You know that feeling whereby you have been fighting hard for so long that you get so tired at one point. You still want to keep fighting but you’re losing it; losing your mind. You’re wondering why you should keep it up. You wonder whether it’s worth to keep fighting like this.
Just survive this.