Being the exception vs being the example

Difference isn't an mistake

Here’s a fundamental truth about my life: I’ve always been an exception. I’ve always been different, I’ve always had a different experience and perspective.

There are a lot of ways to explain this, but biracial, lived in seven countries, creative soul should give you an idea of where all of this comes from.

Here’s the thing I realized today. I’ve lived as if my difference is my mistake, my shortcoming.

Photo by Markus Spiske: https://www.pexels.com/photo/one-black-chess-piece-separated-from-red-pawn-chess-pieces-1679618/

I don’t do things the way other people do them. I’m pretty bad at remembering birthdays, don’t send gifts, prefer to make or give used books, and on and on.

I don’t dress up but I also don’t feel so comfortable about my kids wearing sweats or leggings in public. I don’t do either.

If you’ve had a crisis, I won’t send flowers or a card. If I’m near enough, I’ll probably drop off frozen homemade pasta sauce and a package of pasta. I’ll check in with you a week or so later to see how you’re doing.

I don’t prepare fancy meals or clean my house or decorate if you’re coming to visit. But you can stay as long as you want and use whatever you want in the house.

I realized today that instead of seeing my differences as a mistake, I could see them as examples. What if, instead of feeling like I have to apologize because I call myself disorganized or lazy or unfamiliar with proper etiquette, I embrace the fact that I think a lot of social rules are lame.

Last year, I missed out on participating in a mom’s gift exchange in my neighborhood and felt bad. I’d just moved here and participation is one of my three golden rules for making friends.

This year, I saw the deadline. I was aware of the deadline and chose not to sign up. Why? For one thing, apparently the ladies in my neighborhood feel like $40 is limiting for a secret Santa budget. I saw the lovely pictures women shared of what they received and knew I wouldn’t want to buy those kinds of things, there was a lot of “art” with Mom wine jokes.

Instead, the thing that made me happy was thinking about how to disrupt this exchange. What if I signed up and asked for a donation to the Food Bank? What if I gave a donation to the Food Bank as a gift along with a handmade zipper bag?

I didn’t do it because I didn’t want to rock the boat. I didn’t want to upset people. I didn’t want to make anyone feel less about their way of celebrating and getting to know each other. 

But what if my difference isn’t a critique? What if it’s an example? What if it’s welcome? What if I could change the tide? What if next year, instead of a gift exchange, the mom’s decided to do a fundraiser and spend some time together. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful way to get to know each other? Wouldn’t it have more meaning and depth?

My difference could have made a difference. My perspective might have broadened others’ perspectives. It might have resulted in one donation to the Food Bank.

So, I’m going to work on this new way of thinking and see where it takes me. And I challenge you do to do the same. What if we speak up about the things that we feel could be done differently? What if we do things our way and instead of feeling like we did it wrong, understand that we are expanding the options in the universe? How would the world change? How could we change the world?