Imagine living in a world where everything was the same. When I say everything, I mean everything. There would be only one type of car that was the same color, model, and size. Everyone would have the same kind of house, clothes, shoes, diet, interests, hair, face, body, and emotions. If everyone's brains functioned the same, then there would be fewer ideas, inventions, and creativity. I will cease from letting my imagination run down this rabbit hole of a homogenous, uniformed, and identical world, simply because I'm creeped out by it.

If we were all supposed to be the same, God would have made it that way.

Ever since we were placed in school, we had the innate desire to fit in. We wanted to be like everyone else. It was common to match with your best buds, wearing the same shoes and everything. We somehow believed that if we changed our outward appearance to be congruent with someone we admired, we could feel safe, loved, and important.

As the times of mommy picking out my clothes ended, I developed my own sense of "style". I realized that I didn't feel comfortable looking the same as everyone because I felt my personality was different than others. I wish that you could have seen me in middle school. I would strut down the blue locker halls between passing time, with black converse, long socks, cuffed jeans, paint-splattered designed suspenders, a neon V-neck and huge square glasses. Some might argue nothing has changed. Despite my nerdy-chic attire, I was confident. I was genuinely happy and proud to be someone different. I took pride in being weird.

In my seventh-grade drama class, a girl, who will be left unnamed because I have forgiven her, sat next to me and would always make fun of me. I have to applaud her consistency because this girl never missed a beat. She was very tall, maturely developed, and had long horse-like hair. She thought that her style, her ways, and her appearance were superior to mine. My once proud self only desired to be invisible. Everything that made me unique was everything that brought me shame. After she continuously made fun of the things I wore, I changed my whole wardrobe.

And behold, a shopaholic was born.

My father would take me and my little sister to Great Lakes Crossing Mall every single weekend. I used to just go there for the ride and to be with my family, however, I started spending the money he would give us. I nervously strolled into stores like Hollister and Abercrombie, feeling feeble, and uncomfortable. Maybe it was because of the super strong hallucinogenic cologne. With all joking aside, changing myself was painful. I was trapping my eccentric inner self that yearned for stable identity, inside a body that wanted to blend in. I wore everything that everyone else wore. I had a secret personal oath that banned me from repeating outfits within a single school year. I even began to notice that my laugh was like theirs. I walked their walk and I talked their talk. Where did I last leave myself? I couldn't find her. I was lost.

In our present day culture, we are falsely encouraged to be different. In other words, people in our life say "be yourself!" however, when we do show those differences, we get questioned, stared at, and even scolded. This causes your real self to curl up in a permanent fetal position, afraid of ever expanding your joy and weirdness again. You are hurt. At least one time in your life, those who you care for, look up to, or aspire to be, have disapproved something unique that is true to your identity. The scary part is, they sometimes don't even know that they hurt you because they don't always do it on purpose. It could be as simple as a friend questioning the reason you wear your hair a certain way or why you say words differently than they do. All of these incidents force us to build a barbwire fence around our special qualities, keeping almost all or specific people out. This is dangerous. We become numb to the outside world, feeling secretly unloved, and underappreciated, while we put up a front that is considered "cool". We wear the popular name brands, we listen to the same hip music everyone listens to, we keep up with the hottest slang and cuss words, all to feel connected and accepted.

Towards the end of high school, I found this lifestyle to be spiritually deadly. I was truly unhappy and unsatisfied. One would think that someone who wears the nicest clothes, has almost everyone in your school be your "friend", on homecoming court all four years, overly involved in extracurricular activities, and had the hottest boyfriend would feel flawlessly fine. Sorry, but this was not the case. I was missing something: myself. My weirdness was accidentally bubbling inside me like when a bottle of Coke is shaken vigorously. Eventually, I exploded. I am so weird and I cannot keep it hidden any longer.

I feel free.

I realized that it was lethal to hide my true self. I thought the things that made me weird were things that should be kept in the dark. Did you know that Father loves your corky little self? "even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You," (Psalms 139:12). Being super strange doesn't even phase God! He loves every single part of you; the good and the bad. What you consider to be "ugly" about yourself is still just as beautiful to Him as the parts you find praiseworthy. So if this is to be true, then why are we hiding? Why are we pretending to be someone else just to feel a sense of belonging? The Word says, "And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God," (Romans 12:2). Stop trying to blend in. We aren't chameleons! If everyone is trying to be like everyone else, then everyone is no one. Let me say that again. If everyone is trying to be like everyone else, then everyone is no one. We don't need a world filled with the exact same people. Show your differences. That's what makes life fun and interesting. Being weird is being free.