When I was a child I was weird.
I was a voracious reader. I was never that into television shows, and we were too poor to have that fancy shmancy cable, so I didn’t really get into many of the “hit” shows (although I did love me some Alf, I tell ya). I devoured books like they were candy. It was an escape much of the time. There were some truly awful events that happened in my childhood and diving into a book was like escaping to Neverland, where children were left to frolic and play without a care in the world. I could hide there and not focus on the worries that surrounded me in the real world. All of this reading made me less than well versed in many of the popular topics of discussion.
|Me (at around age 10 or so) and my mom|
I wore thrift shop clothes before it was cool. I had big, poofy, frizzy hair. I wore big thick plastic, yes plastic, glasses that I would take off and hide in my backpack while I was in school. My sneakers never had a tell tale brand name logo.
I had one friend, several years younger than me because I was the wrong skin color for any of the other neighborhood kids to play with me. I walked the long way home from the bus stop to avoid the jeers and physical threats. At one point, one of the school’s teachers who lived in the neighborhood had to actually drive me to school himself because the bus was no longer safe for me to ride.
When I was a teenager, I was weird.
I was quiet, shy, and reserved, although I loved participating in theatre. I was never the initiator of conversation and it took me awhile to open up once someone did take a moment to speak with me. I had a small circle of friends and trust was not doled out easily.
Instead of spending my after school hours on extracurricular activities, I worked as many hours as I could get in to save money. I was still pining for that escape to Neverland, you see. While most of my peers went off to college, I was working full time and then some, plugging away money saving to move, to go to college, to figure out what in the world I was going to do with my life and go do it. I wasn’t out on the weekends, hitting the malls. I was working double shifts and saving to buy my very own car.
|One of my senior photos from high school|
I didn’t party. I didn’t drink. I didn’t smoke. I didn’t do any of those typical teenage things to show everyone that I was “cool.”
I didn’t even date. My first and only serious boyfriend(or what a teenager would designate as a serious boyfriend) was during my senior year of high school. Dating was not on my list of priorities.
In the little bit of free time that I did obtain, I wouldn’t be found at the latest basement party, but at the movies with one of my few close friends or at home reading a book.
When I was a young adult, I was weird.
I had scrimped and saved and finally got accepted to a little private college in North Carolina. I packed up my little Chevy Cavalier and moved here all on my own. I was twenty years old. Because of my age, the school housed me in the upperclassmen dormitories. After my full load of classes, homework, and on campus work study job, I went and waited tables at a BBQ restaurant until late hours of the night to continue to pay for my tuition and other needs. I often collapsed into my dorm bed, smelling of smoked pork, trying to get a few hours sleep before my first early class. When many of the other freshman girls were anxious over which frat party they were invited to, I was anxious over how I was going to pay for the next semester’s books and still afford my car payment.
|Hubs and I in our early dating days|
During my sophomore year, I met my (now) husband. A year later, we were married and expecting our first child. My priorities were now shifting in an entirely new direction. I was the first of my friends to have a child. No one really understood why I wanted to stay home now, why I couldn’t go out to eat at 9PM, why I no longer haunted the regular campus hangouts. I was a wife and mother at the tender age of twenty two. I was officially a grown up and needed to behave as such. I withdrew from college to focus on my new family.
Now as a mother of three who has been married for nearly seven years, I’m still weird.
I choose to stay at home rather than work outside of the home and be really hands on in the raising of my children, not only because that is my desire, but because I believe the Bible commands women to do so.
I breastfeed for extended periods of time and cosleep with my babies.
I homeschool my children because we believe it is in their best interest for a variety of reasons.
I submit to my husband (or at least do my best to, I still have a long journey ahead of me on this topic).
I try to lead a life that pleases the Lord rather than follow the trends of society(that sometimes , although I often stumble and sometimes fall flat on my face.
And while there have been and still are definite times in my life where going against the grain has made life a tad hard, it’s been totally worth it.
How are you weird?
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