“I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.”
― Virginia Woolf
When I was once a wee tot, I fell in love with Disney’s 101 Dalmatians. I loved the movie so much that I wanted a dalmatian dog of my own. When my family realized how much I liked this franchise, they all began to buy me loads and loads of dalmatian paraphernalia. I got bed sheets, clothing, books, stuffed animals, figurines- you name it, I probably got it. I’m sure that I had over 101 dalmatians. For a while, I loved it. Relished being surrounded by cute puppies that needed no extra care or responsibility. But after a couple of years, I realized that my family kept buying these things because they had no idea what else I liked.
I think this is probably a thing most people do. We want so badly to know others that it can be easy to cling to one bit of information about a person. To typecast them as the person you understand. Just as much as we do this, we let other people do this to us. Because it’s easier than being difficult. Let’s be honest about how much it sucks to be the friend who’s “impossible to shop for.” So at some point, you just start throwing people a bone. Let them know something about you and assume that it’s a magical insight into you. Let them project who they want you to be. But in doing this, you’re doing a disservice to yourself. Yeah, everyone doesn’t have to know everything about you, and you shouldn’t have to fight for people to understand you, but you also shouldn’t let people sell you short.
I challenge you, and myself- don’t let people label you to make you simpler. You were never meant to be a simple human. You have many features and interests. Like a dalmatian’s spots. And all of them are valuable. After all, a dalmatian with just one spot is nowhere near as beautiful.
- I love my proclivity for pants-less-ness.
- I love my twangy country music singing voice in the car or in the kitchen.
- I love my Tetris like packing skills.
- I love my taste in books.
- I love my taste in women. Even if it gets me in trouble more often than not.
- I love my strength. Need me to rock a vending machine for you?
- I love my goofy semi cursive handwriting.
- I love the way I sit like a little kid in chairs.
- I love the way I have to scoot my car seat way up cause my legs are short.
- I love my fondness for broken down sneakers over dress shoes.