July 31 2015 – Here’s the English version of my blog post from yesterday, I hope you will enjoy the reading;
I’ve always been an outsider, but it never bothered me as long as it’s by choice, though being left outside in a negative manner is a completely different thing. I’ve been ostracized and ignored alike in various aspects of my life without any actual reason, but my flaws and my lack of beauty was something I was made aware of a lot during almost nine years. The words I got to hear were rough. Do I really look that odd? Well, I saw it then and I see it today as well. In the end, it all became truth.
Being the one looked upon as someone with a different look lowers self confidence and self esteem alike, it turns into an inner struggle. A constantly ongoing battle where the fixation is in focus.
It never hurt or offended me if someone thought I was weird or even strange in my way of being, as I do not suffer from being different or odd in my personality, quite the contrary – I’ve always viewed it as my strength. Though still, in some way, I wished to mask the fact that I was different in my way of being with at least looking like others. The all over negative attention I’ve received on my appearance indeed left scars. This negative attention was brought back up in the autumn of 2011 when I received countless emails and comments about my complete lack of beauty and what I ought to do … the words were rough, even this time. Though I choose not to write these here.
I was the one who never quite fit in anywhere. It was like if all the compartments were already taken, there was no place left for me at all, which scared me as I deep inside felt and knew I was not like the others. Perhaps it was the fear of others noticing how different I actually was. That they would discover I was not like them. That feeling may be compared to my great fear of the Christmas crafts day in middle school, the day my class was going to be in scattered parts of the school buildings. The grip of panic from maybe not finding my way. What if I would enter the wrong building or the wrong classroom? I always had this worry about others seeing me lost. I was afraid I’d eventually wind up going about the school yard disoriented, or even worse – entering a classroom only to discover it was not my class.
Being a teen in the mid 80’s wasn’t easy either. I didn’t dress like the others, I didn’t have bleached Levi’s with holes and tearings in all the right places, neither did I have the white and black Takano jumpsuit. My Levi’s were dark blue and missing holes. I tried to make holes of my own with scissors, but it didn’t turn out the way I planned. Not at all. And there was no use in putting them in chlorine for bleaching, everything had gone wrong already. And the Takano jumpsuit in the clothes store – all the cool, black ones were sold out, leaving only a pink one for me. Nobody, and I really mean nobody, wanted the pink one. I stood by a crossroad, the pink one or going without. I desperately wanted to fit in, somehow. So I went home with a pink Takano dress. And I was different. Again. Against my will. This is something that’s been constant throughout my life and occasionally I’ve wondered why that is. I wanted to be like the others so badly, to look like the others – at least wearing the correct garments. When I wanted to buy a pair of nice shorts for my gymnastics class, I knew exactly which ones I wanted. I wanted the black ones with white stripes. But as I went into town to buy them, the entire stock of the black ones had been sold out and only yellow ones with white stripes were left. So there I was, once again wondering why. Why? Right there and then middle school came to mind, where I longed to get my hands on a couple of snow joggers, the cool, white ones everyone else had. But of course, at that specific time the white edition was sold out and there was only one left. The green blue-ish one. And on top of that, the other shoe was deformed. I mean, come on.
For some reason it has been this way my entire life. My attempts at looking like the others failed time after time after time. Sometimes it seemed as if everyone had everything and if they didn’t have everything they received everything eventually and nothing ever went wrong. Maybe this way of thinking is naïve, but that’s how I felt. And I can feel this way to this day.
I was conversing with a wise person about this specific problem of mine, of how things never turned out the way I wished or thought. All that I’ve felt and experienced, different events in my life – my constant attempts at fitting in, but where I always failed. The answer I had somehow felt logical, however outlandish: – See it like this, you’ve always been out of sync with the Universe. Every time you tried to be like the others it never turned out that way. You were never meant to fit in and every time you didn’t have your way it was to bring to your attention that you’re not meant to look like the others. Yes, it sounds pretty logical, actually.
Perhaps it is that way.
When I think about it, I’ve received a whole lot in my life. I have my own way of thinking, I have a unique way of seeing which has been an advantage in my photographing, I can write and express myself in words. And there is a meaning to everything. There was a meaning to never fitting in. Though I can’t do much about my appearance, I can only accept the fact that this is how I look. I am after all me, I’ll continue being me and there’s not a thing in the world I would trade in order to be like everybody else.