Different

“No, not that one…hmmm that one’s OK…”

It has to be different, I have to be different – but do I want to change me? Or others perception of me?

Well that’s the easiest question I’ve asked so far! Dreaming of a genie, 3 wishes, teeth that don’t need brushed, weight that stays off, hair that stays on…

So why the obsession with different? Is it because I always tried so hard to fit in, without realising I never would? I remember simple pleasures, walking alone. I remember the pressures of walking home from school with others. Enjoying attention, never seeking it, always desiring it. Unsure of my confidence, unwilling to make a fool of myself (THAT’S why I don’t usually dress-up in fancy dress).

So I want to fit in, but stand out. To be the centre of attention, but immediately shun the spotlight. Centre of attention in private is one thing, amongst friends and family, confidence high, joking, laughing, content that I know the limits, know when to shut up. Plucked from a crowd to stand on a stage, people looking, laughing, too reminiscent of walking home from school. I need the control of familiarity.

Is it a concern over my ‘image’? Never fitted in because I didn’t have the right trainers? The cool shirt? I don’t care now – or at least state that I don’t, deep down I know I do – but it still bubbles under the surface. I desire the newest, greatest, bestest (I know, I know…) things. Coolest ‘stuff’ – hmmm deja vu?

So basically I need to accept this, and I have, kinda… It makes me who I am. If I wasn’t like this I would be someone else – but who? Whoa…that’s a different something.