Daring to be the Same

I'm sure most of you have read Sean's "dare to be different" post, delightfully entitled "Don't Die Your Pubes." (I still chuckle every time I read that) It got me thinking about my attitude about others' opinions of me over the years. The main theme in the line of thought has been that I don't care what other people think, but this idea has evolved for me over the years.

It was in middle school when I really started to consider this issue. I spent most of the time as a social outcast; it wasn't as though I had no friends, but I got picked on, and didn't fit in with the "cool kids," or whatever. I didn't so much care about that, but it did make me retreat into my shell, so to speak. (Up until 5th or 6th grade, I would get in trouble for talking a lot, if you can believe that) The issue didn't really come to my attention in its fullness until a couple of longtime friends stabbed me in the back. It seemed the reason cited for this was that I "wasn't cool enough." Of course, this was at the peak of my timid personality, and I had no desire for a confrontation. I was pretty down about it for a while, and spent most of eighth grade floating along socially, trying not to become a bigger nerd than I already was. It was about halfway through this experience that I realized something wonderful:

It didn't matter if I was a nerd.

As long as I was comfortable and happy with myself, it was not important if I got made fun of, or if people didn't think I was cool, or if I didn't have stupid looking pants. (You remember Jnco, right? Or were there more vowels in that? I don't know) This was the beginning of me regaining my self-confidence in areas that didn't involve being smarter than people. While I classify it as one of the worst times in my life, it helped get me ready for some of the best.

It was as though I was reborn. I, Richard Greene of 14 years, did not care what others thought of me. As I left the image-fixated world of middle school, I was ready to turn over a new leaf. With my newfound self image, I saw trends as the source of my past woes. People in middle school judged coolness on trends, and I was not about to fall into that trap. I soon found myself avoiding nearly every trend that came along. I was not one of the army of mindless preppy automatons, and I wanted to make sure everyone knew it. I was proud of the fact that I did not have the coolest new thing, whatever it happened to be.

The long and short of it, for me, was that I had to be different. If a friend started talking about what a group of people thought of them, I would chime in with my favorite retort, "I stopped caring what people thought of me a long time ago." Then, late in my highschool career, in the middle of such a retort, I realized somthing, something not so wonderful. I had been hating these trends simply for the sake of being different. I railed against Abercrombie and Fitch, ska music, Harry Potter, and cell phones for no reason except that so many others thought they were the bee's knees. I completely cared what other people thought. No more did I not care if people thought I was cool; now, I cared if people thought I was cool. What's more, I still wanted everyone to like me. I cared what nearly everyone thought. It was time to rethink my outlook.

I knew the original plan to not care was meritous, but finally realized its inherent flaws. I couldn't be the nice, likeable person I wanted to be while maintaining complete apathy. I came to accept the fact that what really mattered through the whole thing was my opinion of myself. What I really wanted all along was to be genuinely liked for my own personality and merits, after all. I needed to get back to the basics of my original outlook: that the opinions of others should not affect my opinions of myself.

The main tenent of my renewed outlook was to evaluate everything on its own individual merits. How do I like it? Since then, I've come to accept some trendy things, and shrug off some others. While there may not have been a big outward change, I've noticed a definite inward change. I can say with confidence, I am more myself today than I ever was during high school, and honestly, I'm thrilled about that. I finally understood that while daring to be different helped, in order to be truly happy, I had to dare to be the same.

Some things haven't changed, of course. I will never wear anything from Abercrombie and Fitch. Those $50 t-shirts are an insult to the America, and to little Gupta, and the bowl of rice he earned making them. Ska music on the other hand, is okay. There's some good stuff there, if you look around. Harry Potter was an alright movie. Cell phones...bought one, hate it, still convinced they're bad for society. The important thing, though, is that when I walk to class with my Nalgene bottle, wearing my Chuck Taylor shoes and witty t-shirts, I know that when I laugh to myself about the "greek" kids with their Ipods, messenger bags, and Ashton Kutcher-esque hats, I've got a good water bottle, some sweet kicks, and a chest that will cheer people up.