Where My Weirdos At?

Growing up, I was a pretty quiet and unassuming kid flying under the radar. While I was quiet, I did pay close attention to what was going on around me and my wheels were always turning. I was usually terrified of doing or saying anything that may result in a classmate saying something cruel so I just quietly observed. I observed the mean kids, the nice kids, and everyone in between. Later in high school, I came out of my shell a little bit and had some classmates ask me where I was from and subsequently having to tell them I had been going to school with them for a few years. That’s how under the radar I flew. 

When I went to college, I found my tribe. Friends who were funny and, in turn, helped build my confidence and brought out my funny. Laughter is the word which most prominently comes to mind when I think of my college experience.

When meeting new people, I typically sit back and wait to get comfortable before sharing some level of my personality or humor.  I think to myself “Is this person my level of weird? Will they even appreciate my weirdness?” If I sense they are feeling uncomfortable in their own skin, I tend to show a little more personality to make them feel more at ease, simply because I empathize with the feeling of discomfort and not belonging all too well.

I am significantly better with one on one interactions. Surrounded by any more than three people in a group, I get social anxiety. I used to think there was something wrong with me until I found out there was a name for it: Introversion.  This always comes as a surprise to people, but I’m what I would classify as an introvert. Can I be outgoing and “put it on”? Yes, of course. But at the end of the day, I am wiped. The thought of going to a crowded bar, concert or party makes me break out in hives. 

I have a distinct memory of going to lunch with four very outgoing people a couple of years ago, three of whom I didn’t know all that well at the time. I sat there almost frozen while the rest of them talked and laughed. I recall at one point, my friend, in an attempt to make me more comfortable (I think?) innocently saying “You guys, Lexi is actually really funny!” 

***Mental facepalm***

“Let me crawl under the table right now,”  begged my inner dialogue. I can’t remember what I did after that, but, if memory serves me correctly, I think I just awkwardly and uncomfortably laughed shrinking back to that shy kid in elementary school. 

Later in the day that same friend said to me, “I have never seen you like that.” Probably because our time together had always been just me and her.

It’s an interesting characteristic of mine and one I have studied about myself for a while. I suppose there is still some subconscious level of fear of not being accepted. One on one, I can handle perfectly well. Some may even find me charming, funny and believe I have my shit together. (Joke’s on them!) 

In a group setting, the quiet little girl in me sits there panicking “WHAT IF THEY DON’T LIKE ME?!!?! WHAT IF THEY FIND OUT I AM A WEIRDO!!? THEY KNOW!!! AHHHHHH!!!!”

Just typing that made me laugh out loud.

In all seriousness, I define introversion and extraversion by what energizes you. Being alone energizes me and allows me to recharge. Being around a group of people for an extended period of time, drains the daylights out of me. I used to be envious of the extraverts. They always appeared as though they were having way more fun. I used to get bummed about it.

In my 20’s, I felt so out of place while everyone else my age (seemingly) was going to the bars and taking full advantage of their third decade of living. Most nights, I used to get anxiety staring at the door and coaxing myself “you can do this…”

Some nights I defeated my anxiety and went out. Other nights, my anxiety won, because the thought of leaving the house was exhausting. I just ended up watching Sex and the City episodes or reading. (Truth be told, that is still my idea of a fabulously ideal evening).

Now, I joke that I’m a 90 year old in a 39 year old body. And you know what? I’m way more accepting of that than my 25 year old self constantly thinking what I “should” be like. Oh young grasshopper, that 25 year old had so much to learn.  I don’t miss my twenties at all, but if I could go back to my 25 year old self, I’d give me a big hug and tell me I’d be just fine.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve discovered that panicked kid wanting to belong is inside of all of us – who knew? I think spending so much time focusing on avoiding uncomfortability has somehow dissipated over the years and has transformed into this wonderful sense of knowing, understanding, and appreciating we are all weirdos. Who knew almost twenty years later, I would run towards stepping out of my comfort zone regularly because being comfortable for me, is dangerous. As I’ve mentioned previously, and I’m sure some famous person said it somewhere, but outside the comfort zone is where the magic happens.

Most days, internally I still feel like that shy little kid before coming out of my shell. Quietly observing and marching to the beat of my own drum. I used to be significantly more self conscious of people thinking I was weird. Now I just embrace the fact that I am weird. In fact, I have found, the more you pronounce your weirdness, the more people stand up and say “Hey! I’m a weirdo too!” 

And those are my people.