She's A Little Different
Do you remember the days in high school and college when it was cool to be different? A little unique, a bit of an odd-ball, a fish swimming upstream?
Back then, I used to call them golden girls — a gal with a golden personality that shines bright — not just the bold and outgoing ones, but even the quiet and quirky ones!
We grew up with movies like She’s All That, Princess Diaries, and Cinderella Story. We watched Taylor Swift sharpie “13” on her arms and hold her pens in a supercoolweird way.
For many of us who grew up in that era, as we’ve aged, we’ve learned that when all of us try to be a little special we end up all being the same. And while that might have irked us then, we know now that’s not a bad thing.
At the heart, we all want to feel valuable, worthy, seen, found, and yes, special.
That’s a beautiful thing. It’s so human, exactly how we were made to be.
Over the years, I’ve found great comfort in thinking about how same I am. How very human and normal, both small and magnificent, plain and miraculous.
If I’m having a particularly hard day or week, or if I’m dealing with a circumstance that feels impossible and lonely, I know that I’m not the only one. There is such comfort there.
Like when I was awake in the middle of the night, with an extraordinary weariness that radiated to my very bones and back, nursing a very fussy baby. All through the night, when the whole rest of the house was pitch black and quiet, or with my face lit by the TV screen showing the cozy-familiar scenes of Gilmore Girls at 4am. I would feel so very alone and weak, and then think of all the other moms out there doing, and feeling, the same.
Or if I write a line or a song that feels like I perfectly captured my very deep and raw thoughts, and then read a poem by Longfellow or a passage in Scripture that captures that same emotion (or sometimes even other artists during eerily similar timeframes), I feel electrified by the notion that the human experience, even over centuries, is essentially the same.
Flesh and blood. Fatigue and envy. Wonder and glory.
As my therapist reminded me last week, there is nothing new under the sun. We can find comfort there.
I also think we should embrace the things that make us feel different, even if many others share that difference.
I write songs, and many others do too. I have dreams of opening a shop, starting a podcast, and filming a vlog — many others do too, or are doing that, or have been there and done that. That’s okay (she types as she reminds herself) — you may not change the whole world or receive hundreds of thousands of followers or explode in a blaze of glory. That’s not the point!
The point is not to be one-in-a-million.
It’s to be one of a million!
One healthy you
being true to yourself, thinking things through, and feeling at home with your beliefs, emotions, body, and lifestyle
and
sharing life with those around you in a healthy way. Learning life lessons over and over again — like how to forgive, communicate, and apologize. Messing up and also being a maestro at things. Learning from those who went before you, and passing things down to those who are following up behind you.
The point is, we are who we are, we do what we love, and we invite others to enjoy that freedom, however it looks on them, while we’re at it.
It’s light, it’s beautiful, and it’s true.
It’s both different and same.
Now that I’m in my mid-thirties (or maybe because we’re in the 2020’s), I feel like the message has shifted a bit — that to share ideals, worldviews, ideologies, values, and beliefs is the goal.
I don’t think it is.
I don’t think pressure to achieve sameness is ever really a good thing.
I think society can in fact improve and evolve by holding onto ones differences.
Doesn’t that sound very counter cultural at the moment?
For me? My felt differences recently have been
Choosing to continue following Jesus in both traditional, how-I-grew-up ways, and some different ways. Maybe I’ll share more about that later.
Not “bouncing back” body-wise after giving birth.
My “Nice”-ness. Honestly I’ve been learning to embrace my natural desire to be nice — even though it can be judged as being fake, needy, or weak — because I know my motives are to genuinely connect with others, to see them, hear them, and encourage them. I also grew up in the south, and there are some great things about that southern charm that people tend to caricaturize.
I’ve felt out of touch, less impressive, and, well, older by not being active on Insta, much less TikTok or that other stuff that is “it” right now.
I’ve felt like maybe I should not say certain things about faith, and maybe I should deconstruct, even though in my own ways, as I’ve walked through life with Jesus over several decades, I’ve already questioned systems that called themselves Christian but were really culture, and recognized them as such. And I’ve tried to follow His Spirit and word and encounters with Him, and there have been too many miracles to lump the whole thing up together and say, maybe not, Jesus.
I’ve felt like I’ve disappointed people because I didn’t bounce back after birth. Like I suddenly became that girl who gained so much weight and lost her specialness and likability. But I actually know how much I’ve taken care of myself, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, over the course of my pregnancies, births, and postpartum, and this body is so beautiful and powerful!
And yes, I can be nice AND real, raw, funny, caring, and genuine.
What if I celebrated ALL of that? Instead of hiding? Instead of being afraid? Instead of thinking I offend?
What if, in confidence, I could say, “I’m so happy that I’m aligning myself to my truest ideals, and I know what’s healthiest for me!”
Now, there’s the golden girl, not because of what I’ve decided to do, but because I’m happy and confident in doing it.
Our life mosaic is always going to be 100% unique. No one person shares our exact desires, personality, hardships, background, trauma, talents, dreams, or beliefs.
And we are all going to have struggles, losses, wins, and very plain, human times. Day after day. Year after year.
I’m a little different.
So are you.
In what ways do you feel different from others right now?
Maybe you could list them out, and then try to flip the script to one of full embracing, in all the ways that make you unique, and all the ways that make you same.
Sending all my love to the truest you (and all your wildest dreams),
Sam
