A huge part of my growth as a human being has been about getting down with how staggeringly, mind-bendingly uncool I am.
If you’re silently protesting, don’t: I’m a dork, and I know it. I’m earnest, and I can’t hide it. My tastes run the gamut from lowbrow to middlebrow, with a smattering of whackjob. I’m barely on the cutting edge and will never be on the bleeding edge, whatever that is.
For some reason, I was able to travel amongst and between various groups while I was growing up. I was never a cool kid, but I was allowed to hang out with them. In hindsight, I’m guessing it was the entertainment factor: I have never had much issue with playing the clown, and was Tony-the-Tiger-grrrrreat! at making other people look good without pulling the spotlight on myself. (Side benefit of being wired shy.)
Other than goofy, I wasn’t too much of anything: not too pretty; not too ugly. Not too smart, not too dumb. I sucked at sports, but not as much as a few spectacularly athletically ungifted types, mostly because I busted ass and had decent eyesight until my senior year of high school (which also spared me the mortification of wearing glasses, which was a very good thing in the 1960s and 1970s.)
But the main, number one reason why I was generally well-liked and rarely disliked is that I never stood for anything. Whether that was because I was too scared or too selfish to do so is something I’ll have to meditate on (which, let me tell you, makes me want to sit down and start meditating even more than I do already. Oh, yes.)
I had a secret fear for most of my life that the people from my completely non-overlapping groups of friends would meet up somehow, take one look at each other, another at me, and all leave in disgust. I recall stretches of unbelievable stress when I knew that, for some unavoidable reason or another, one part of my life was going to collide with another—at a play or a party or some other scenario where there would be no escape for me—and I’d make myself sick with stress anticipating it. How could I justify being friends with a dork to one of my cool friends, or, for that matter, vice versa? I was so used to gently (or not so gently) morphing myself into whomever it was easiest for my friends to be around—or whomever I thought it was—that the idea of just being myself was literally impossible: I had no idea what that looked like, and only the dimmest sense of how it felt.
The long, slow process of me shedding fear (and moving into the light and a million other clichés that are no less real for being clichés) started, as does most change, with me realizing I didn’t particularly like where I was.
Then there was much asking of why, and a great deal of crying, and copious amounts of alone time. My wardrobe went through two complete changes; it’s a good thing I shop second-hand.
The beginning of the end of the first part of the change was marked by a gargantuan (for me) “Breaking the Birthday Hex” celebration I threw for myself when I turned 43. All my friends were invited, most of them came, almost none of them mingled and everyone had a blast. (Today, of course, we have Facebook, where we can all see what each others’ motley crew of friends look like if we’re interested. Which, if my own experience is any indication, we’re not.)
This blog, you might guess, has been Part Two of my long, slow process. It’s been gratifying, but also a bit terrifying. The more you come out strongly for anything, the more it seems you will attract people who hate you for it. I’m nowhere near attracting the levels of venom I hear spewed about even the minorly internet-famous—still, it’s happening more often now, and it’s jarring whenever it does. I cannot imagine the kind of skin it takes to be Saint Oprah, whom all kinds of people seem to feel it their bounden duty to heave rocks at.
Me, I don’t roll with everything Oprah Winfrey says (and I’m frankly baffled by this Eckhart Tolle thing, except possibly as a non-narcotic, nighttime sleeping aid) but yes, I do find her inspiring. Damn straight, I do. She’s for books and for women and for personal growth, and I am for these, too. Maybe not always the exact same books; maybe I’d like the ladies to be turned on to ideas more than stuff, and some more radical notions at that. Maybe some of the personal growth stuff is a little too celeb-tinged for my taste. (Again: Eckart Tolle?) But HELL. Oprah Winfrey is a shining example of a strong woman bootstrapping herself, making choices, committing herself to them and moving forward. That lady stuck her flag in a particular hill a long time ago and I say, “Brava!”
For this, no doubt, I will have more scorn heaped upon me by someone, and you know what? That’s okay, too! Not fun, but okay, so long as we stay away from the bodily harm threats (N.B.: so far, so good, thank christ.)
I no longer look for how someone is different and in what way I can change myself so that they like me, but for the ways in which we are the same, and what they’re here to teach me. Or I try. My strong reaction to anything is something to examine. (After a bit of a cooling-down period. Remember, the end of this trajectory am I not at. Thank you, Yoda.)
Oprah is doing her thing. I am doing my thing. You, I hope, are doing your thing.
It would be nice if we could all start with that one area of overlap and wish each other well. But no matter what, I’m done converting. Hate on Oprah—or me, if you like. From now on, I’m taking it as a sign that I’ve finally stuck my flag on a hill where it can be seen…
xxx
c
Image by Alan Light via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.
{ 14 comments }
“and I’m frankly baffled by this Eckhart Tolle thing, except possibly as a non-narcotic, nighttime sleeping aid”
Oh thank God. I’m not the only one!
(If I gotta hear my sister tlak about her “Pain Body” one more time, I’m gonna really give her something to be in pain about.)
I admit it – I like Oprah too. What I’ve always liked about her is her sincerity. She seems to genuinely care about people and be interested in their stories. She’s maybe a bit too enthusiastic about her celebrity guests, but overall, I appreciate and admire what she’s achieved and what she stands for.
When a person puts themselves out there to be judged some people aren’t going to like him/her. And I think that’s a good thing. It’s funny how many people rag on Tim Ferriss because of the title of his book. We all know he doesn’t work just 4 hours a week, but that title alone has gotten him so much press that even the critics are helping book sales.
I think you are cool – in a dorky way, but still cool. I’m glad you aren’t afraid to stick your flag in the hill for all of us to see because I really enjoy your blog.
This reminds me greatly of something I saw on the Happiness Project a little while ago that Gwyneth Paltrow had said – something along the lines of negativity giving people energy, but that energy being short-term. And it feeds back into your post on jumbrage – it just takes less out of you to be as consistently positive as possible. I’m not saying you have to be everyone’s best friend or biggest fan, but being able to appreciate the thing(s) they do well … that works out best for everyone, in the long run.
I love Oprah. I think I have seen her so often that I feel like she is a friend of mine. I often don’t agree with her, like her book choices or her outfits, but I feel that way about all of my friends. She puts her SELF out there. She is who she is. She tries hard to do good. She doesn’t always succeed, but she is always genuine. I really admire that.
Its true if you never stand up for anything, you can never be criticized for anything, either. But, jeez, what a boring, non-productive life that would be!
I related to so much in this post, I don’t even know where to begin. For awhile now, I’ve been a fan of Oprah but I couldn’t identify exacting why and you have completely summed it up for me by saying: “She’s for books and for women and for personal growth, and I am for these, too.” Though there are quite a few things I disgree with Oprah on, she’s doing her thing and she’s succeeding at it so good for her.
I think I’m still in the stage of my life where I am trying to balance all sorts of different groups of people, likes and dislikes, and trying to figure out who I am. I really appreciated reading this post, as it gave me something I could really relate to — and hope that all of this personal growth I’m working on will somehow get me to a better place where I can completely, 100% do my thing.
This is my first visit to your site and now I’m hooked! :)
wow – so you’ve been getting some hate-mail, huh… well, I hope you don’t take them too personally and remember to take the source into account, i.e. whatever the haters pick up on usually says more about themselves than it does about you.
Negative feedback is a hard pill to swallow, I’m with you on that. Molding yourself into someone you think people will like, I get that, too, and I was never popular despite (or because?) of trying.
Quote John Cusack, “(as) a paranoid schizophrenic, I am my own entourage.” Amalgamating myselVES into one more or less encompassing coherent person: still working on it. Hallelujah for being able to speak out about the process.
xx
Colleen this is my all-time favorite post of yours. Like many I can identify with so many parts, especially “I had a secret fear for most of my life that the people from my completely non-overlapping groups of friends would meet up somehow, take one look at each other, another at me, and all leave in disgust.”
Twice when many parts of my world came together – at my wedding and at a gathering I orchestrated, the mini-groups gathered separately and stared at each other, a few mingled, especially around the food and drink areas – yet they talked about each other alot afterwards… and years later we’ve all mellowed out more and, at Dec holiday party I hosted many more of them mingled and kidded each other directly…. ah the seasons of life, eh, reflective Colleen?
As the Dutch saying goes: ‘high trees catch a lot of wind.’
To which I’d like to add: as long as you are connected to your ‘roots’, no storm can bring you down.
I’m enjoying what you are putting out here. Thank you!
Amen, Sister! True, the more we take a stand and speak our truth, the more we open ourselves up to scorn or judgment. However, I notice so many people taking this stand, that I suspect at some point in the not too distant future, those few who continue to point and laugh will find themselves sheepishly standing alone with no one interested in their pithy remarks.
Taking it back to Marianne Williamson: by letting your light shine, you give others permission to do the same.
Shine on, Colleen!
So much to think about in this one. I notice most politicians, including President Obama, and media personalities like Oprah, choosing their words very carefully, trying to be clear and not unnecessarily incite controversy–choosing their battles. That still doesn’t stop at least some people from making up horrible lies about them. Anyone who isn’t completely invisible can run into this. It’s a balancing act to welcome constructive criticism while getting it clearly that other people have their stuff that may not have anything to do with me.
I admire Michael Moore and Keith Olbermann because they don’t pull their punches, but they’re not go-to guys when we’re looking for mediators. On the other hand, I wish President Obama took more risks (like coming out for gay marriage) but I understand why he doesn’t. He’s spending his political capital carefully. As does Oprah.
She had Bill O’Reilly on her show. He spewed his usual hate, and she didn’t call him on it. She was being an objective journalist, trying to create goodwill. Maybe she gave him enough rope to hang himself.
In any case, there’s a balance to be found in all things, such as speaking frankly without creating unnecessary and useless resistance. It’s about sensing what others can hear.
Wow. Seems like this was a pretty resonant one, so hooray for that.
A few add’l points…
Elge – I should add that I felt a little guilty saying even anything negative about Tolle in the context of this post. Re-reading it, I come off as pretty snarky. The reality is, I totally get how other people might like Tolle (including Oprah) while simultaneously not getting him AT ALL.
Carole, Kody and Positively – Thanks for coming out for Oprah. I think it’s become really fashionable to actively dislike her as she’s started to do more of the things her heart desires. As Shepherd says, she’s picked a tough road, trying to be a mediator, and a massively mass-market one, at that. I try to acknowledge that some of what she does makes me uneasy because it’s true, but also because I feel like it can calm down the militant anti-Oprah types enough to acknowledge that yes, maybe she’s doing some good and yes, we’re all a little different (and isn’t it nice when we can get along?).
Karl – I was shocked when people started ragging on Ferriss for that. For other things—hubris, maybe, or his oogly habit of finding loopholes—yes, okay. But that was so clearly a puffery claim: he’s been upfront from the get-go about working his ass off ALL the time; the 4-hour bit was clearly about finding a way to relegate the part of your life you maybe didn’t like so much but needed to do to keep body & soul together to as teensy a slice of time as possible.
Thanks, EVERYONE, for so much support. So very, very appreciated as I learn to manage this stuff.
Funny how much this “cool” thing holds us back. You, at least, take risks despite not feeling cool enough, or so it seems to this outsider. I chronically hold myself back (ie am I cool enough to go to Burning Man or our local fringe fest? – not in my mind I’m not)-despite actually being one of the coolest people I know in my very small pond.
All of this is to say we all have to keep talking about that underbelly, that 15 year old wandering the halls of high school as a huge misfit who still lurks within us. And you did that…and that’s what makes people love you.
I have a love/hate relationship with Oprah. But I’ll bet she’s not worrying about me…
K.
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