navelgazing rambleness

I vividly remember painting balloons in second grade. Natalie Thornwaite painted hers yellow with red polkadots and wrote the words, "Wild Thang" on it. Before the balloons were turned in though, she changed the phrase to, "Wild Thing." I remember being upset. I've never thought intentional misspelling was cool (although I did have a brief habit of spelling "rules" with a "Z"), but in second grade, replacing an "I" with an "A" was downright subversive. I was disappointed that she gave in to percieved societal pressure to be normal and censored her own creativity. Even at seven, I valued individuality.

That's pretty much been a constant ever since. There were times when I wanted to fit in, but never if it meant being the same if that makes any sense. My favorite Muppet was Gonzo. My favorite Anamaniac was Wakko. I loved Peter Tork on the Monkees and Murdoch on the A-Team and claimed "I Am the Walrus" as my favorite Beatles song. When people would call me "weird" I would take it as a compliment.

The question I have is why? What caused me to value uniqueness (within reason) over so many other things? I wonder if maybe it was because I've always felt odd myself. As far back as preschool, I was never cool or popular. Other than a few scattered moments, I was never completely ostracized, but I often felt like an outsider. Maybe that was the beginning. Maybe, at some point, I subconsciously decided that if my lot in life was to be weird then I'd turn it into a positive. So now when I find myself wondering whether I hate something because I actually hate it or simply because it's popular, I should stop questioning it since I already made up my mind about the subject when I was two.

Really, it's a chicken vs. egg thing. Either I'm weird because I value individuality or I value individuality because I'm weird or both qualities come from some unknown nature/nurture source that I could never hope to isolate. Pick option A, B, or C and it doesn't change much. I'm a bit strange sometimes and I appreciate other things that ever-so-deftly deviate from the norm. For better or worse, that's me. But I can't promise not to be hurt if you call me weird too much.