June 25th 2025
This blog post was originally going to be titled “Societal Acceptance and Living Atypically”. I decided I didn’t want to sound like I have five sticks up my ass for once and changed it to what now lies before (above?) you.
As a preface, I want to make it clear that I don’t think myself unique in what I’m about to describe. I believe most people deal with it or will deal with it on a sliding scale during some point in their lives. But for the sake of simplicity, I will mostly be referring to my own experience.
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Modern society wants nothing to do with atypicality and by extent, those who are atypical. I say modern, but realistically, I believe this has always and will always be the case. Whatever the reason for this doesn’t really matter to me. I’ve heard five million different explanations. Biology, sociology, safety, morality, etc, etc, etc. The endless attempts to justify it are tired and boring to me.
This is a lesson that I’ve had to learn at a young age. It’s an unfortunate thing for a kid to have to go through, but I’m thankful that it was early in my development. It got me ready. I’ve known people who’ve been absolutely devastated by the way others treat them once they realise they’ve been assigned as atypical. That’s the funny thing. It can happen to anyone at anytime for a myriad of different reasons. You can become one of “those” overnight. Maybe you’re a real OG and you were born with it. Or maybe you get into an accident, date the wrong gender, lose your job, become disabled, associate with “those”. You get the gist.
Despite being forced to learn all of this early on, I’m still occasionally ruffled when faced with less than pleasant situations regarding general conformity, often presented to me by people that I love. I know it comes from a place of personal insecurity, so I obviously empathise. But it cuts. And I’m an animal. I bleed. Is reprimand for deviance from the dullest concepts really worth hurting someone you love? I don’t think so. But I’m no angel. I’m sure I’ve been guilty of this myself, so I try my best to be as conscious of it as possible.
While not always the case, atypicality may open you up to ease of manipulation. When you’ve been shot down and mistreated by so many people you can start to exude this aura of hurt. This is like blood in the water for people looking to take advantage of you. And honestly, it’s difficult for me to feel true animosity towards those who have done this to me, because so often those who manipulate have been deeply hurt themselves. It’s a vicious cycle and I think it takes a lot to break out. That first step through the broken glass is gonna hurt.
Above all else, remember to be kind, but protect yourself and know when to cut someone off for your own sake. It is not your responsibility to endure someone else’s redirected insecurities. Even if you love them very much. This is something they must take the initiative to work through themselves. Know the signs of someone who is not presently willing to do so.
Do they speak ill on generalised groups of people, often of those with which they share traits? Do they insist that you are unique? Do they exude an air of defensive superiority? Are their words needlessly acidic and cruel? Do they look at you with reprehension because all they can see staring back is a mirror?
I’ve never met a person who has uttered “You’re not like them.”, who hasn’t eventually come to hurt me very badly. Some of these people will never take that first step. They will die bristling and hateful. You must make peace with this. It’s difficult and it’s heartbreaking, but it’s the price you must pay for self-preservation.
With regards to my own atypicality, I’m luckier than some. Unless you know what to look for, the ways in which I am different are often easily missed. But maybe that does make me unlucky as well. People approach me expecting things that are not true. They get close to me. And when they inevitably find out too much about me, they disappear. Only if I’m lucky though. Sometimes they stick around and pretend. And once I realise they’ve been pretending, it’s often too late. They’ve been busy generalising who I am and chalking my behaviours up to theorised events that are supposedly typical of my atypicalities. Hogwash! Forget years of this being proven otherwise. Years of support and friendship. All I am now in their minds and the minds of those who choose to believe them is some crude mannequin composed of parts that never belonged to me.
But it is what it is. Once you’ve gone through it so many times it hardly comes as a surprise anymore. Let them say what they will. I know they’re wrong and so do the people who truly care about me.
In all of this, the only thing of any importance is the people who have my back. I have long since come to the conclusion that I am a freak and will always be regarded as such. Who gives two iotas of a shit about that when I can share my life with other freaks. People who treat me with genuine understanding and kindness. Whose closeness doesn’t come with a catch. They will always be there for me and I will always be there for them.
So.
To those still desperately trying to engage in a system that wants nothing to do with you, I ask: Why do you care so damn much? You trip over yourself time and time again. Let others rip you open. Bury yourself 6ft deep. Hurt those who truly matter by parroting concepts that have hurt you. All this for what? Others who have time and time again shown you that they will only ever harbor conditional acceptance for you.
Break free dawg.