fitting in, part two

After all my crabbin' and ventin' about fitting in in yesterday's post, I have to tell you...there's another side to it. Once again the Fairy of Perspective visits and twists my head into thinking maybe, just maybe...there's another way to look at it.

My frustration comes because I've never felt like I fit in (like so many people who have commented here or emailed me about posts I've had on this subject). So then, I don't know if its human nature or what, but a person wants to search for a place they fit in. You think you find it, be it theater or unschooling or art or church or PTA or whatever your thing is. After awhile though, you figure out you don't absolutely fit there either. And the frustration builds, because you think you're supposed to fit. Somewhere. Absolutely. You start to think you don't belong anywhere. You're too different. No one thinks like you. No one is as insanely varied as you are. Right?

Well...after awhile, when looking at it from the tips of the trees that the Fairy of Perspective dragged you off to, you realize that whole mindset is actually feel sorry for me, I'm different, you'll never understand me. Sort of leftover teenage angst rolled up into a ball of adult-martyr-poor-me-hood.

Its not pretty. It's actually kind of whiny. And pathetic.

That darn Fairy of Perspective says, "So you like a lot of different things. So you're different and varied and undefinable. Does that mean you don't fit in anywhere? Or does that maybe mean you fit in a lot of different places."

See the difference?

It's attitude.

I have a cousin who can talk to anyone. I asked her once what her secret was. She said she figures you have something in common with everyone you meet. You just have to figure out what that one thing is, and go from there. In her world, everyone fits together.

The millions of different things I like to do or believe in or have opinions about can either be seen as a reason to not connect or a reason to connect. I can view them as a million reasons to be an outsider, or a million reasons to fit in. Once again, it's perspective.

There are no absolutes. I'm not supposed to exactly fit with any other person. You can only stare at yourself so long in the mirror.

I could put myself out there with blue hair, and the "alternative crowd" could still think I'm a poser. The cheerleaders could still hate my sarcasm. Some unschoolers could still think I'm not unschooling. Some other types of homeschoolers could still call me an unstructured hippy unschooler.

But who cares?
I mean, really. Who the F cares?
If that's what they think, their loss. I guess.

I'll keep doing what I do, and grow my group of friends who do what they do. And even if the things we do aren't the same, we respect each other's freedom to do so.

You all know who you are. Wink. Hug. Grin.

As for the rest, I'm not going to have them draw a black and white outline around me, framing in who I am as a means of figuring out where I fit in.

After all, without an outline, I fit in far more places than I ever realized.