I was on my way to work today and saw a young man walking down the road who would be classed by many as “different” at best and I got to thinking about the pressure to conform. The lengths we go to to look the same, to fit in. I think it came from a post I read the other day over at Maxabella Loves when she described only children (of which I was one for my entire childhood as my brother didn’t arrive till I had well and truly left home) as odd!
Ok, so what makes someone odd? How do you define odd?
I have a large circle of friends and everyone has something that I guess could be described, according to my sphere of understanding, as ‘odd’ and yet it is those very quirks that makes me love and adore them. How utterly boring to have everyone in your life reflect back to you your exact ideas, likes and beliefs.
I’m odd I guess, well as odd as most people, in fact I think as I get older I am becoming more myself and increasingly embracing the things that make me me, and I make no apology for it.
Baffle the critics…give them flowers.