Don’t fit in, and don’t feel like you have to. Plenty of people will say otherwise, but I’m here to tell you they can all go to hell. No, here’s a case where you should listen to Jimmi Hendrix, who sang he would “wave his freak flag high.” Because deep down, there’s a freak inside of all of us.
That pressure to pretend you’re just like everyone else starts early. Middle school, maybe even before that. It’s probably most intense in high school, but it never really goes away. And we all feel it, even adults. Sadly, most of us spend our lives not only bowing to it, but making sure everyone else does too.
Why?
First, there’s a security in making the safe choice, to fitting in. Being part of a tribe feels good, whether you end up hanging with the sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, or dickheads, it feels good to belong.
Side note: part of that security can depend on the exclusion of others. And that’s one of the downsides to tribalism, even when it’s just seemingly harmless cliques. Don’t build your identity by shitting on someone else’s. It’s mean, it sucks, and eventually it’ll turn you into an asshole.
That said, there’s nothing wrong with finding a tribe you belong to, as long as you remember who you are. See, there’s a difference in dressing and looking like your friends and feeling the need to think and act exactly like they do. If you want to dress preppy, dress preppy. If your friends are all into outdoor stuff, you might wear a paracord bracelet. And athletes wear the same uniform by design. Just don’t let your team colors dictate your thoughts.
It takes courage to stand out, to think about things differently, or to even do things differently. And I’m not talking about the conforming non-conformists, groups of people who eschew social and societal norms in packs, effectively creating new social norms that they’re more comfortable adopting.
No. When I encourage you to let your freak flag fly, I’m talking about figuring out who you are, where your passion lies, and being that person. For real. Authenticity is terrifying, it’s vulnerable, and it usually means stripping away all the layers of bullshit we protect ourselves with and taking big risks.
Selling your house and opening a pizza place in the middle of a pandemic? That’s letting your freak flag fly. Shoutout to Alex at St. Francis Apizza, who’s making some fantastic pizza on the East side of Cincinnati and was kind enough to show me their kitchen and talk pizza this week. Learning to hear your own voice after years of “cultural conditioning, numbing addictions, and institutional allegiances,” leaving an unhappy marriage, and admitting you’re gay despite your conservative religious following? That’s letting your freak flag fly. Hugging your friend at home plate instead of celebrating with your team after you strike him out to end the game and send your team to the state playoffs? That’s letting your freak flag fly. Leaving a company where you’ve worked for 16 years and are on the fast track to super senior leadership to follow a passion and go sell craft beer? That’s letting your freak flag fly. (I’m so proud of you, Ellie.)
Your freak flag knows some people won’t understand, and it’s okay with that. Because when you fly that flag, when you let your guard down and are your real, vulnerable, authentic self, people respond to that authenticity. And for every person who doesn’t understand, five will not only get it, but love you for it.
You know why?
They want to fly their freak flag too. They’re just scared.
Standing out is scary. Being different is scary. Being noticed is scary. But you know what’s worse? Hiding your light under layers and layers of fear, conformity, and societal pressure. Being miserable doing the same thing everyone else is doing. Following someone else’s dream.
Don’t spend your life trying to be something you’re not. As much as flying that freak flag will scare or even terrify you, there’s an incredible freedom and power to letting your authentic, real, self shine through.
In an interview on screenwriting, Joss Whedon spoke about how your personal intent is what makes a script yours. He said, “whatever makes you weird is probably your greatest asset.” And while he’s talking about scriptwriting, that idea applies to almost anything. What makes you weird is what makes you you. Nobody else will have it.
Whatever path you choose, I hope you have the courage, self-confidence, and willingness to be real, to be your authentic self. I hope you learn to wave that freak flag high, high!
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.