an acquired taste?

“I know I’m an acquired taste: I’m anchovies. And not everyone wants those hairy little things. If I was potato chips, I could go more places.” So spoke Tori Amos. I think I agree with her. I’m surrounded by all kinds of personalities on this campus, but I don’t really find anyone whose personality, when truly exposed and illuminated in freedom of expression, mirrors my own. My friends have constantly told me that I am quite the character. Weird. Strange. A little off. Awkward. Funny. But yet passionate, enthusiastic, dedicated. Words cannot quite describe my personality, and as I write this post, I realize that. How many other people do you know who enjoy making loud, weird noises in the middle of a class lecture? Or who run up steps on all fours and then shriek like a banshee? How many other people do you know who will hide in storm-cellars for hours just to scare someone who walks by? These are trademark characteristics of who I am. My nickname is the “Koala Beast.” Those who know me well see how it fits, but those who don’t find themselves confused. On the surface, I’m a shy kid with an awkward gait, who doesn’t speak unless spoken-to, who will hide in the shadows of un-recognition. In my pursuits of friendships, I often fall flat on my face. People will either find me boring or too weird to be around. Most people don’t know how to take the things I do and the things I say. In my pursuits to make friendships, I often find that the object of my pursuit acts as if I do not exist; but I must ask the question, “In my shyness and timidity, do I also pretend they don’t exist?”

I have been trying to rekindle old friendships and start new ones. Over the past year or two, many of my friends have walked in and out of my life. I have been rejected, backstabbed, abandoned. For the past few years of my life, my nights have mostly been spent in fitful sleep, and at times tears have crawled down my face (I took an online quiz that said I only have 20% masculinity, so that might explain the crying). A darkness crawled over my heart and turned it icy and calloused; only in the past few months has that coldness been eradicated, and now my heart is warm and open and inviting. But when it comes to making friends, sometimes I wonder if my personality gets in the way. I am tempted to feign a different personality that may be more appreciated and accepted; a personality that mirrors the majority of personalities seen around this campus. I am a lively, creative kid who enjoys the strangest things, but at times I am tempted to become like everyone else, a cardboard copy of those boring personalities I find in every direction (and I am not accusing anyone of this, simply making an observation).

Yet I must keep in mind that my personality is a gift. It has entertained countless people, though unfortunately often at the expense of my own self-esteem. I must keep in mind that my personality is just something that hides the core of who I really am: a caring, compassionate, and often selfish human being. I must keep in mind that I have my faults, my weaknesses… and my strengths. God has made me like this for a reason. For me to try to reshape my personality into something society deems more “appropriate” is to give God the finger and tell him, “Sorry, you messed up.” Maybe the world needs someone who will run around like a dinosaur in the darkness, just for fun and far out-of-reach of anyone seeing? Maybe the world needs someone who will daydream of zombies bursting through the doors of Biology class? Maybe the world needs someone who will not fit into the cookie-cutter shape mold, someone who is shy and quiet but then explodes into a vibrant display of thoughts, musings, laughter, and oddities? Maybe the world needs someone like me, in this little corner of my world? Or maybe I’m just being egotistical.