EXPOSED: In a world of 7.6 billion people, I never fit in

Can you believe there are 7.6 billion people in this world? That is an insane amount of human beings. You’d think there would be at least one click, one group, one something that allows me to fit in like a missing puzzle piece, but there’s not. My whole life I never really knew where I belonged. I always felt like an outcast no matter where I hung out.

In elementary school I guess you could say I was around the popular kids. From the outside looking in, I was cool. From inside the click, I was not. There were three popular girls in elementary school who then had their own little click of girl best friends. I notice on Facebook that some of them are all still best friends. Not only did they have their tight knit circle, you know the one where they had sleepovers every weekend, hung out at each others house after school constantly and shared one another’s clothes, but they had the popular boys to date and hang out with too.

I managed to earn a desk next to them when the teachers let us pick our own seats but I didn’t fit, I stuck out. For one, I didn’t rock the expensive clothes. My mom and dad gave me $150 or so for back to school shopping and I had to learn how to make do at Bob’s. That’s a lot compared to some but pennies compared the the crew I rolled with. I tried to emulate what they wore and how they styled themselves, but it was always second hand in my option, never good enough to be ‘that girl’.

For two, I was and still am thick. Attending an all white elementary school didn’t aid in my favor of thickness. It wasn’t until later that I learned the blessings of thick thighs and big butts. And in the meantime, it left me out of the sharing clothes portion of being in with a girl click. There’s two strikes against me.

And for the third strike, my mom was a tough cookie. There was no portable phone in my house, which meant I had to use the kitchen phone, attached to the kitchen wall as my means for getting all the gossip. I wasn’t allowed a television in my room which kept my house out for sleepovers, amongst many other reasons. And then you add a mom who didn’t care about appearance, who didn’t encourage boyfriends, who refused to conform to the popular kids parents click, and was absolutely embarrassing for a kid who didn’t fit in, even in a world of 7.6 billion people.

Today I appreciate everyone of those strikes that kept me on the outside, but while I was going through it, it was torture. It was embarrassing, And it made me doubt that I was good enough.

Add a few years and junior high was no better. I still had the knock off brand clothing, the mom who wasn’t able to show me how to do my hair or makeup, and those damn thick thighs. I knew I was different at this point. I knew my personality didn’t fit with anyone but it didn’t give me any reassurance, I still questioned my worth. Unfortunately, the tables turned even more. Rumors spread throughout the school and I was now labeled a whore. I was definitely on the out’s with the cool kids now. And if you swayed all the way to other side of the pendulum where the trouble makers were, where the hoodlums hung, I was fresh meat to harass and bully. Bullying me became a regular. I would see the crew coming down the hall and my whole insides would turn. A rubber chicken was thrown at me on the regular there.

Junior high became pretty tough to live through. And to top it off I was a fucking walker. That meant I had to walk my ass home everyday. I’d tried to walk with the cool kids, but the troubled ones began targeting me on the walks home. No one wanted trouble so I started getting the boot. Whether they gave me the boot or my lack of self worth gave me boot, I don’t know, probably a little of both. (20 years later and I’m tearing up, got the frog in my throat thinking about how fucking shitty junior high was). I was too much of a spoiled kid who came from a loving home to run with the hoodlums and I was too uncool to be a popular one. It left me nowhere to turn but in.

And in I turned. I became one angry, defiant, back talking shit. It was not how I was raised and it wasn’t who I was born to be which caused me a lot of internal struggle. You ever know you’re supposed to be something different than what you currently are? Yea that was me for many years. I decided that if I was going to take beatings, I may as well put up a fight. I fell in love with fighting at that point. And no one likes a fighter unless you fight yourself, so my group of people started to change.

I stopped trying to fit in with the popular crowd and I started to try and fit in with the hoodlum crowd. By high school I was dating one of the toughest of the toughest kids around town. My mom despised him. My teachers despised him. And I loved him. By the end of my sophomore year I dropped out of high school. I no longer could take the lack of fitting in, the anxiety, the internal assassination of myself, and my peers. So I took to to the streets, with the kids who were drop outs just like me, whether by choice or by being expelled.

Even then, even in this crowd I still didn’t fit in. As I said before I came from a good upbringing, I came from two parents who taught me right from wrong. I had no business being around and participating in robberies, drug deals, assaults, drive-by’s. I had no business in the streets and I knew I didn’t belong but there was no where else for me to go. I didn’t fit in with the cool kids, I didn’t fit in with the smart kids, I didn’t fit in with the neighborhood gang anymore, I didn’t fit in anywhere. In a world of 7.6 billion people, I still didn’t fit in.

All through college I went through the same steps all over again. I didn’t fit in the with the girl clicks, I didn’t fit in with the popular clicks, I didn’t fit in with the jocks, I didn’t fit in with my major, I didn’t fit in with anyone. Just this past weekend as Jay and I walked through Boston and we watched all the new freshman get dropped off at Emerson College, I said to myself, ‘I wish I could do college again. I wish I had allowed myself to experience it the way it’s intended. I wish I didn’t allow my self worth to keep me from making lasting friendships.’

Through my early twenties I battled with it even more. I was too white for the guys I was dating families, I was too fucked in the head for normal people (except for my dearest dearest friend Brandy who always saw the good in me), I was to closed off and mean for the friendly people, I was too rough for the nice guys, I was too cleaned up for the bad boys, and I could go on and on. I just never fit in.

Until now. Until about 6 or 7 years ago when I said ‘fuck it’. I am me, the good, the bad, the ugly and definitely the beautiful (apparently I went all the way to the left and now I’m just cocky haha).

I accepted that I’m not a girly girl. No matter how much I love watching makeup tutorials and am in awe with what people can do with makeup, I’m just not into it. And guess what, it’s okay. Makeup girls can still be my people.

I accepted I’m rough around the edges. I curse. I got a rugged past. I can throw a mean jab, cross, right hook if I need too. I’m defiant. I’m blunt. I see in black and white. And you better believe, it’s okay. Innocent, naive and down right sweet people, can still be my people.

I accepted that I am a homebody. I don’t care for parties and events. I prefer to come late and leave early. I may or may not stand in the corner and choose not to talk anyone. You bet your ass though, it’s okay. Outgoing, energetic, social butterflies can still be my people.

I accepted that I prefer sweatpants over a dress. I love me some Target and name brand items aren’t on my radar. It’s all okay though because expensive tasted individuals can still be my people.

And most of all, I accepted that in a world of 7.6 billion people, I’m not meant to fit in. I’m not meant to blend. I am meant to stand out and just be me! And of course without a doubt, it is abso-fucking-lutely okay. As long as someone has a good heart, good intentions and good character, they can be and are my people. I don’t have to look like them, act like them, or have to be them to fit in. I am loved the minute I love me for exactly who I am!

If no one has told you today that you are amazing, just the way you are, let me be that person!

You are amazing, just the way you are!

Toodles, Becca Jane 🙂

3 thoughts on “EXPOSED: In a world of 7.6 billion people, I never fit in

  1. Beautifully written and thank-you for sharing your story.
    I can fully and utterly relate to this story. You are an amazing writer and inspiration too.


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