Have You Waved Your Freak Flag Lately?
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
I don’t know if it was the laissez-faire mention of our sex life. Maybe it was the graphic explanation of the period from hell. Either way, I think my husband is getting used to me talking about stuff that makes most people uncomfortable.
If I’m being honest, a lot of it makes me twitchy too. That’s why I don’t share a lot of deep level ideas in everyday conversation.
Who does, though?
Most people are walking around holding invisible trophies of shame. They’re hiding things so private that only 1 or 2 of their closest confidantes know the truth.
These secrets bind us. They make and break us emotionally, physically, and financially.
But no one talks about them.
We keep that stuff buried because we’re ashamed or feel stupid or we’re worried about what someone else will think if they find out. Even worse, we worry that no one will care at all.
Sometimes they don’t.
I used to think it was because I wasn’t good enough or because I was too much of a weirdo. But then I realized something that turned everything around.
I am fucked up. But so are you.
And everyone is looking for some sort of sign that proves they aren’t alone – that someone else is just as fucked up as they are. But meaningful conversation leaves our hearts open for breaking and our minds open for hacking. So we avoid it, throwing away any chance of finding the people who are just like us.
I used to be worried that I was the only freak on the block. But if that means I get to have more fun, meet more people, and make deeper connections, then freak it is. Without pain I would not recognize happiness. I’d rather feel both than nothing at all.
And someone has to be a freak first.
Why not me?
Why not you?