fitting-in

So you're a little weird? Work it! A little different? OWN it! Better to be a nerd than one of the herd!

Everybody struggles with this stuff, you know. With social discomfort and grief and fitting in. People with syndromes, people with disorders, people with diagnoses, and without. People who would be classified as neurotypical. Idiots and geniuses, maids and doctors. Nobody's got it all figured out.

Human tragedies:We all want to be extraordinaryand we all just want to fit in.Unfortunately, extraordinary people rarely fit in.

Want to know the truth about belonging?It takes courage to belong. It takes bravery to show up in your own skin.It__ easy to fit in. It__ easy to blend in and hide your outrageousness.And it__ also the easiest way to lose the precious parts of you.You deserve to be seen. You deserve to be heard. You deserve to be known for the real deal that you are.Stop taking the easy way out. Stop trying to fit in.The best place in life is where you__e already okay.Come home to you. It__ where you belong.

Taking into account the public's regrettable lack of taste, it is incumbent upon you not to fit in.

Plants are more courageous than almost all human beings: an orange tree would rather die than produce lemons, whereas instead of dying the average person would rather be someone they are not.

There are people who are generic. They make generic responses and they expect generic answers. They live inside a box and they think people who don't fit into their box are weird. But I'll tell you what, generic people are the weird people. They are like genetically-manipulated plants growing inside a laboratory, like indistinguishable faces, like droids. Like ignorance.

Like a lot of people with mental illness, I spend a lot of time fronting. It__ really important to me to not appear crazy, to fit in, to seem normal, to do the things __ormal people_ do, to blend in. As a defense mechanism, fronting makes a lot of sense, and you hone that mechanism after years of being crazy. Fronting is what allows you to hold down a job and maintain relationships with people, it__ the thing that sometimes keeps you from falling apart. It__ the thing that allows you to have a burst of tears in the shower or behind the front seat of your car and then coolly collect yourself and stroll into a social engagement_We are rewarded for hiding ourselves. We become the poster children for __roductive_ mentally ill people, because we are so organized and together. The fact that we can function, at great cost to ourselves, is used to beat up the people who cannot function.Because unlike the people who cannot front, or who fronted too hard and fell off the cliff, we are able to __eep it together,_ whatever it takes.

I fit perfectly within my vibration. I am wholly complete in the knowledge that I am who I am supposed to be!

Each of us is a book waiting to be written, and that book, if written, results in a person explained.

When I was young, I used to wish I would fit in_ I__ glad I didn__ get my wish.

She may have been among them but she could never be one of them. She was without inclusion for-as-much as she was not "one of the girls" and she wasn't "one of the guys." She was an outsider gazing in, endlessly comfortless, while they wished they had what it took to be less like the others and more like her.

Exactly. We don't belong here. They're not staring out of disdain, Jordan; they're staring out of jealousy. We don't have to be a part of the horrible modelling industry. You don't have to watch what you eat and I don't have to worry about how many zits are on my face. We can be whoever the fuck we want, a type of liberty that a majority of people crave.

That empty sick feeling came over me again. In a big school it was easy to fade into the background, but I didn__ know if that would be possible here. I tried not to think about it anymore.

When you don't fit in, be sure to stand out.

They weren't smiling and were looking in opposite directions, but it was as if their bodies flowed smoothly into each other's, through their arms and fingers. . . . There was a shared space between their bodies, the confines of which were not well delineated, from which nothing seemed to be missing and in which the air seemed motionless, undisturbed.

Did other people have this much trouble fitting in, or was it just her?

You really are a chameleon, aren't you? Fitting in wherever you go."Aren't we all?" she said...