Tag: misunderstood
Finding My Tribe
I’m sure we’ve all had the experience of feeling as if we do not fit in. That’s actually pretty much my status quo. But every once in a while, I’ll go somewhere or meet someone that makes me feel completely comfortable and at home inside my own skin. When that happens, it’s such a relief. It feels as though I’m removing shoes that are two sizes too small. I feel understood. I can be myself.
We humans are so nomadic and so culturally, emotionally and politically diverse that it’s a rare and precious moment when you find a member of your “tribe.” It’s also a gift to feel at home. These people may not look anything like you, they may be a different age or gender identity or nationality or religion, but you can tell that they get where you’re coming from. And these home places may be far flung and entirely unexpected, but you know that a piece of your very soul resides there.
When you find your tribe or your homeland, embrace that feeling. Hold onto it if you can, if only in your memories. These feelings will remind you of who you are at your very core. And whoever you are, it’s nice to be reminded, sometimes, that you’re exactly who you are supposed to be.
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What to Take with You
I can’t speak for you, but sometimes I feel so completely freakin’ misunderstood that I even begin to question myself. It’s astounding how many people there are out there who are willing to tell you that you shouldn’t feel the way you feel or that you shouldn’t do what you do. The world is so full of noise that it’s hard for people to listen. And everybody’s a critic.
After enough time in that emotional meat grinder, I feel completely drained of my life force, and I start to wonder if they’re right and I’m wrong. Maybe if I just twist myself into a particular kind of knot, maybe then I’ll be viewed as saner, stronger, braver, more confident, less irrational, more well balanced, and more appealing. I, too, can be functional, if only…
“Stop being so sensitive.” “Stick up for yourself.” “It’s not that big of a deal.” “Here’s how you should have handled it.” “Why do you think that way?” “You’re making too much of it.” “This is how everyone else sees it.” “Grow up.”
It’s enough to make me want to crawl into a hole and pull a rock over the entrance. Just long enough to lick my wounds. Long enough to heal and remember who I am. Long enough to keep my wounded butt from lashing out and verbally tearing my attacker limb from limb. Because despite how much it may be merited, it never helps.
What do I take with me into that healing place? Truth. The things that I know are true about myself. The things that no one can take away from me no matter how hard they try. Everyone has a different set of things. Here are some of mine, in no particular order.
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I am intelligent.
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I love my dog and my dog loves me.
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I’m a good writer.
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I am a fantastic bridgetender.
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People can count on me.
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If I say I’ll do something, it gets done.
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I’m not afraid of being alone.
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I love a hot bath.
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I have a great sense of humor.
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I’m good with my money.
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I love to learn.
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I have a creative mind.
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I’m curious.
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I draw strength from nature.
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I can be trusted.
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I live to travel.
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I set goals, and I work toward them.
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I am a good friend.
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People confide in me.
I’m proud of these things. I hold them close. They are my passions, my values, and my strengths. They are what hold me together even when I feel like I’m being torn apart.
Never forget that you have your very own set of things. Take them with you wherever you go. They are what’s best about you, even in your darkest hour.
So, hold on to your truth. Tell your detractors to get stuffed. And don’t ever, ever give up.
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Sanitizing My Sanity
I need to stop letting certain things get to me. To wit:
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Situations over which I have absolutely no control.
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Stupid people who are in love with their own stupidity.
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Stress surrounding arbitrary deadlines that I’ve imposed upon myself.
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The endless pursuit of nonexistent seals of approval.
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The fear of missing out.
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Bitterness regarding the unchangeable past.
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Anxiety regarding the unknowable future.
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My inability to feel as though I fit in.
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My weight, which will most likely never change.
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My appearance. Same.
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My frustration over constantly being misunderstood.
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My inability to get others to care about the things that I care about.
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The secrets that I know are being kept from me.
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My failure to convince people of the potential that I know that they have.
I need to wash all these things away. I need to sanitize my sanity.
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Mojibake
Have you ever had a conversation with someone, only to discover at the end that you were talking about two entirely different things? It’s very disconcerting. It’s like opening an important document, only to discover it’s full of incomprehensible symbols like this: �.
According to Wikipedia, when you get that garbled text, it’s a result of it being decoded using an unintended character encoding. It’s called Mojibake (which means “character transformation” in Japanese). I’d go into more detail, but it would quickly get over my head. Read the Wikipedia article if you’re into that kind of stuff.
But what intrigues me about Mojibake (aside from the fact that it’s a really cool sounding word) is that you can look right at it and know instantly that something is amiss. But you can’t always do so with the verbal equivalent.
Miscommunication can be dangerous. Wars can start on a misunderstanding. And as I experienced quite recently, friendships can end.
Confused conversations can also be hilarious when two friends finally realize what’s going on. But surely those misunderstandings can occur between two people, and each of them walk away being none the wiser about the mistake. How often does that happen? There’s absolutely no way to know.
I don’t like the concept that the foundation of our day to day communication is resting on sand, and can be shifted without our knowledge or control. I hate being misunderstood. I like thinking that the world is solid, and black and white, and that we all grok it in the very same way. But no.
I’ll just have to comfort myself with the fact that I learned a new word today. (Thanks, Mor!) And the next time I have one of those confused conversations that end in laughter, I’ll look at the person and say, “Mojibake, my friend.”
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