Let's Get Weird. Or A Home For Peculiar Children.

This morning, a kid told me my child was, "annoying. All he ever talks about is dinosaurs and Star Wars." My heartrate soared behind the placid waters of my face.

He is mildly annoying sometimes, what with the perpetual talk of the raptor family and Storm Troopers, and theories about dinosaur extinction and mammals living in tandem with dinosaurs. He's an intense deep diver with a deep seeded desire to be a paleontologist. He even has his own fossil collection, largely found on his own. He's also a little peculiar, but that's fine by me, so long as he's cool with the Weird, too. I mean, this same kid who said this had literally just sat and pulled his red hoodie over his forehead, exclaiming to his deskmates that he was The Flash. All kids are all weird. If you're saying another kid is (insert negative descriptor) you're probably missing the fact that you're totally weird, too.

But back to my heart rate and the way it took off like Elon Musk funded its design. Being The Weird Kid - note the capitalization - was often more a cross to bear for me than a neatly wrapped gift for such a long time. Some days, The Strangeness still feels like a heavy mantle to shoulder.

I've come to think of it as something for which I can find gratitude, though. I can embrace the way my mind works these days, now that I have found my way through the labyrinth of adolescence and chased away the darkness that knocked chips in my shoulders. I'm probably not a normal, gold star sort of person, but I'm a good person, smart, ridiculously creative, intensely driven. I care for myself, for who I am, deeply, and regard others with that same respect. And the Weird? I hold it close, even at times when it makes me feel all alone in a crowded room, which still happens more often than I like to confess.

That embrace is softened by the way I feel when I'm alone now, the acceptance I've extended to who I am, who I was, who I will be, without the outside influence of judgement. I'm okay. I was okay. I will be okay. Frankly, I dig who I am. I feel like I have found a group of friends who get me and foster self-acceptance; that has been the most fortifying thing about developing adult friendships.

If there's any one single thing I hope to teach my child, sooner rather than later, it's that judgement passed upon you by others is not your problem at all; it's their burden to slough about this world. Be deep and complex, and know that sometimes intensity like we hold is intimidating and uncomfortable and scary to those around us, but that's okay, because sometimes bright things are uncomfortable to behold.