Individuality

For my first entry, I would like to discuss Individuality. Firstly, what does Individuality mean? Dictionary.com has six definitions, but numbers three and five are the best, in my opinion:

    3. A person of thing of individual or distinctive character.

    5. The interests of the individual as distinguished from the interests of the community.

With these definitions in hand, I would like to explore some of my own issues and struggles with this. We all have them, especially during adolescence and even somewhat into our twenties. It’s part of discovering who we are; however, I still struggle with it to this day. So I would like to look at some events from my early high schools years in an effort to shine a light on this struggle.

I believe it really started around my freshman year of high school, about eleven years ago. Junior high was over, and it hadn’t gone too badly. My grades were decent, and I had Chorus and piano lessons to keep me occupied. I was picked on fairly frequently, but nothing too bad, and really no more so than anyone else. I mean, let’s face it; junior high consists of a bunch of snot-nosed little bastards who torment each other (not to mention the poor teachers) out of fear because they’ve been taken from the comfort of elementary school and thrown into the dark, smelly pit that is middle school. My school was arguably worse because it was grades 7-12, meaning we also had the towering and imposing upperclassmen to intimidate us, though I was largely left alone by them.

But I digress. My freshman year felt like a fresh slate, if you will. The junior high had been relocated to a new building down the road, so I was once again in the youngest class in the school. Freshman year is when you start figuring out your place in the school, be it jock, nerd, cheerleader, band geek, etc (Note: I apologize if I offend anyone with these labels, it’s just that this is how high school really is). I don’t think I ever really had a label, though if I had to give myself one, it’d be Chorus Nerd. Chorus was where I felt most at home, though I never really felt at home anywhere there; again, I believe virtually all high school students feel this way. I was still very unsure of who I was and, those who knew me back then also knew me to be a painfully shy, albeit loudmouthed smartass; a strange combination, I will grant you. I think I subconsciously liked Chorus because I could hide in the crowd, even from myself. Even at that early age, I didn’t particularly like myself. I won’t say I hated myself, however, because that is simply not true; I simply have always seen my flaws more than my perks, something we all do from time to time. This, however, is essentially why I’ve always had so little confidence in myself.

So I went into my freshman year both feeling good for a clean slate and feeling very little confidence in myself, not to mention the fact that I was painfully shy. We all know that bullies can sniff out the kids with these attributes like a dog finding a steak, so it didn’t take long for them to find me and start with bullying. I was picked on mercilessly. Pantsed in the shower, shoved around, books stolen; you name it, I had it. I intentionally hung around the music wing as much as I could because I knew the jocks and punks that picked on me wouldn’t come anywhere near that area of the school. When I couldn’t be there, I hung near teachers because they wouldn’t dare pick a fight in front of a teacher. Somehow, I never actually got beat up, despite having quite a few threats.

Now, I’ll admit that being very small for my age and being a giant smartass with a very loud mouth didn’t help, but the fact is that no one deserves this crap. I considered retaliation from time to time, but I knew it would make no difference. If I did something to a bully, they’d do something worse to me, and furthermore, I eventually realized that it just wasn’t worth getting myself in trouble over some stupid jackass. So I ignored them. This is what I always tell people to do, and it is what most people in this situation are told. But they, understandably, want a quick fix. There is no quick fix. Ignoring them will work, but it takes quite a while. Eventually, the bullies grew up, as did I, and we no longer acted so childish towards each other. I even became friends with a couple of them. But, sadly, this was not the only method I employed to stop the bullying. I started to lose myself as I decided that acting like everyone else would make me less likely to be picked on, and it did. But again, by acting like everyone else, I wasn’t myself. This was the first step on losing my true self.

Now, on a final note, as the entire point of this blog is my attempt at rediscovering my true self, I do feel the need to state the obvious. We are ever-changing beings, and I am no exception. Naturally my “true self” is not the same as it was when I was a little freshman, nor should it be. The fact is, due to the actions noted here and actions to be noted in future posts, I have lost touch with the person I really am and have only recently been able to start reconnecting with that man. I have taken long strides toward this over the past few years, but I still have a long way to go. Walk with me, and perhaps you’ll learn something about yourself along the way too.

The world is a scary place, but that doesn’t mean we need to be afraid; it just means we need to stay strong.