“Weird”

I’ve been called weird numerous times in my life, by people I love and people I don’t. It’s always been said with this level of disdain, this tone that implies that how I exist is somehow outside the realm of someone’s comprehension.

It took me until adulthood to realize that someone handing me a label like weird spoke more about them than it did me, but I would be lying if the word didn’t sting. When I hear it now my first thought jumps to what did I do “wrong?” In what ways have I stepped outside of the narrow lanes of someone else’s perception? How did I manage to fuck this all up?

What has always struck me in the aftermath of that word, after the shame settles into my soul and I feel the familiar burn of it’s potency gurgle up through my esophagus is a unique realization. I recognize that my frustration with the scenario or with the word has little to do with the application onto me and more with the person saying it, who in all cases I’ve ever erxperienced, has labeled me “weird” because they don’t seek to understand where I am coming from or understand me in general.

It’s the lack of understanding that has always baffled me and done the most damage because the sense of hurt that comes from being told you don’t fit, don’t belong, act in a way that doesn’t align with others - all of that hurt erodes the soul. It doesn’t matter how old I get or how good I get at deflecting shame from impacting me. The words still hurt because it highlights to me how little people strive to understand.

I wonder how much hurt would be avoided if understanding were at the forefront of a conversation instead of judgment. I wonder what it would be like if curiosity was offered as opposed to narrow-mindedness. Hell, I wonder what it would be like if some thoughts stayed inside rather than out.

The result of any of those actions surely could not be shame. It would have to be any other emotion be it good, bad or in-between. But any avoidance of shame is a welcomed option when it comes to connecting with someone else. As someone who grew up being told I was “weird” simply by choosing not to hide my authentic self, I wonder how I would have turned out had I not been offered shame and instead, had been met with any modicum of curiosity.