There is no doubt about it that I was the weird girl in high school. Before being a hippie was cool (it's always been cool in my book), it was an insult. For a while I carried an upcycled rice bag to school instead of a backpack. It didn't fit all my books and I gained some stares. I didn't wear jeans in school, I only wore dresses and skirts. I had a large selection of shawls and wraps that made me channel my inner Stevie Nicks (it's a coincidence that my name is Stevie).
I even recall having a picture of Burt Reynolds on the outside of my locker.
I couldn't possibly be a normal student. I had to be different.
It wasn't that I was a freak, it was more that my peers questioned whether I had the function to calm down as well. Seeing me jumping off a lunch table wasn't a rare sight. Or throwing a roll of toilet paper down the hallway simply because I could. While my classmates were taking Senior pictures on the beach or standing on the railroad tracks, I chose to take mine in a junkyard. I simply just couldn't conform to being normal. My Grandma used to say, "normal people worry me." Honestly, they do. It was a game, being weird was a game. The more people questioned me the more I wanted to do something crazy.
I never really cared about what my peers thought of me until I went to college.
My Freshmen year was the chance for me to start over, mature, and be a better version of myself. I tried to be a normal person. My goal was no longer to be weird but to blend in. It didn't help that I gained weight as well. Like all incoming students, I too gained some pounds. This only made me want to sink into the wallpaper and not be noticed.
Strangely, I gained more friends.
The first semester I lived happily in the dorms, hanging out in the social lounges most the day, and attempting to be normal. Except I wasn't really "happy." In my head I knew something was different, I didn't feel right. It wasn't me.
When second semester began I found myself growing into a recluse. No longer did I want to talk to people. Instead of hanging out I chose to sit in my room by myself or hang out with my only friend, Maura. If we weren't binge watching "Archer" or "The Vampire Diaries," we were out shopping for records at Village Green Records.
That's when I found it.
It was in the dollar bin that no one ever goes through. For some reason that day I flipped through dusty records and laid eyes on it, the most underrated "Rush" album. Everyone loves "Moving Pictures," but I've never met anyone that likes "Signals." For $2 I bought an album that might as well have saved me (okay probably stretching that a little).
Later that night (actually it was 3 a.m.) worked on my normal rituals that include staring into space while contemplating life or drawing up fashion designs, whichever comes first. While I went about my duties I listened to the album as background music and hadn't really been paying attention. Tuning out the world and the synthesizers I heard a line that hit me.
"...conform or be cast out..."
The opening track of "Signals" is called "Subdivisions" is the anthem for kids that are trying to conform or be "cool." It's literally about kids either conforming or being cast out.
There I was sitting in my dorm at 3 a.m. by myself listening to a record simply because I had nothing better to do. Let's admit it, I'm a bit different.
I gave up trying to be "normal," what does that word even mean? You can't define such an adjective. I don't want to be remembered as a stereotype. Life is too short to conform to an idea fabricated by society. My soul can't possibly handle being forced into a mold, I just wasn't born for that life. I've accepted the fact that I'm "off the wall."
People stare no matter what. I can walk into a restaurant and have a few necks turned. That's okay because at the end of the day I am me. At the end of the day I'm happy and that's all that matters. Be the person they raise their eyebrows at when you walk in the room. In life you are really only given two choices: conform or be cast out.
