“I think what people call ‘weird’ comes part and parcel with people who are brilliant in some way. So embrace your weird. Embrace your eccentricity.” –Eileen Anglin

Hello friend,

As a sports fan, I am no stranger to the unique tics and superstitious rituals of the athletes. Michael Jordan spun the ball in his hands, dribbled, and spun it again before every free throw. Rafael Nadal tugs on his shirt, tucks his hair behind his ears, and picks his undies out of his rear end before every point. Every. Single. One. Athletes are taught that. It helps them to calm and focus their minds. In my own tennis-playing days, I had my pattern of ball-bouncing before serves. It was intentional, and I left it on the court. Outside of that, I spent my youth like everyone else: just trying to seem normal. It’s amazing how much time and energy is wasted on that awful endeavor! Normal!!!

I really thought I was, too. I couldn’t think of a single thing that made me seem unusual or interesting in any way, good or bad. No weird habits. No superstitions. No irrational thoughts I was hiding. Nothing for anyone to look sideways at me about. No unusual demands to make of the people in my life. No hang-ups. I was easy. I blended in. Vanilla. I guess I thought that was a good thing.

I suppose I look at the “characters” of the world as a lot of work to be around, always requiring some special conditions to be created by the rest of us just for their needs. High maintenance.

My parents have become increasingly obsessed with neatness as they have aged, my old man occasionally going so far as to follow his kids and grandkids around his kitchen with a Swiffer when we visit for Christmas (interestingly, one of my cousins told me that my Dad’s brother has become the same way). On a fascinating parallel, when visiting my parents recently, I feared for my germaphobic wife’s sanity when she saw my mother defrosting a chicken by holding it in the middle of her spotless sink and spraying it with water, drops of Salmonella flying all over the countertops and floor (amazingly, my wife swallowed her tongue until my Mom left the room, then quickly sanitized the area—whew!). I have always laughed at the memory of my great-uncle insisting that there be cookies available after supper, and how he could not believe the gall of some restaurants not having cookies on the dessert menu. Speaking of menus, my sister never orders anything the way a restaurant offers it, always making multiple changes to each item.

Weird people, right? You know, Them.  

Not me. Never me.

Well…maybe there are just a few things I’ve added over the years since my youthful blandness…..

I can’t sleep without several pillows placed strategically around me. Currently I have six—two of them king-sized—each filling a role I consider vital to a good night’s rest.

Speaking of rest, do NOT touch me when I am sleeping or attempting to sleep! I will come to full alertness immediately. If you have snuggling to do, get it done before it is time to think about sleep.

I also need to go to bed clean. Very clean. If I have perspired even a drop since my last one, I must shower again. I will not be stinky!

Okay, just one more about sleeping. I cannot wear clothes to bed. Too constricting.

That one speaks to a lot of my physical and mental preferences, actually. I cannot be contained. I get anxious when I feel restricted. So, I sleep naked. When I wear clothing, I like it to be loose and comfortable. Yes to sweatpants, no to neckties. It’s also why I don’t like to work for other people or to have a lot of rules around me. I repeat: I cannot be contained!

I think that is also why I only like to sit in certain seats at a table or be in certain areas of a room. Some spots—usually in a corner and with no one behind me—just feel better to me. I don’t like to feel surrounded.

I need silence during movies. TOTAL silence.

I am very particular about the pens and pencils I will write with. I ask for certain pens every year for Christmas, and dull wooden pencils make me cringe. Mechanical, 0.5mm lead, thick shaft with rubber grip. Thank you.

I strongly dislike tattoos. But then, I was the kid in school who would never allow you to even write a note on my palm. I do not like things on my skin. I don’t even like it when my kids put stickers on my clothes.

Maybe that is why I don’t like outward displays of group membership or position. I hated the idea of wearing a letterman’s jacket in school, I will not buy a jersey to show support for my favorite team, and I don’t like political signs in the yard (though I am softening on that last one as the times become more troubling).

Frankly, I am not much for group joining at all. I don’t know. Maybe it is my innate aversion to small-talk—it makes me feel gross—but I have become terrible about entering larger social settings as I have aged. I love an intimate, revealing conversation and would probably appreciate making more friends, but I otherwise don’t feel much inclination to socialize in groups.

Maybe the small-talk thing is related to one of my other quirks: I resent anything—anything—that feels like a waste of my time. I have become super-sensitive to this, and the alarm bells go off immediately when something is keeping me from a bigger priority. I get tense. Tense and resentful.

I’m a grammar/verbiage snob. I won’t necessarily correct you, but I will badly want to.

Did I say “just a few”? Well, look at that!

It’s funny, I think most of these eccentricities have intensified as I have aged. I don’t know that it is about getting older, though. My sense is that it is more about having a better understanding—thanks to my journal–of what works for me and what doesn’t. I have more of an opinion about myself and am not as willing to compromise that as I was when I was young and just trying to be “normal”.   I think that comes from being more in tune with my intuition, trusting my gut to know which situations make my heart sing and which don’t serve me at all.

So, I am weirder now than I was before. Higher maintenance, too. I have those idiosyncrasies that make people look sideways at me or whisper behind my back.

But you know what? My heart sings a lot more now, too. I am happier. I know who I am. And I like that guy. Quirks and all.

How about you? What are your idiosyncrasies? Open up your journal and your interesting soul. What personality quirks and habits make you question your normalcy? How unusual are they? How much effort do you put into hiding your eccentricities or minimizing them in order to appear “normal”? Which are you most self-conscious about? Are there any that you find particularly destructive to your relationships? Are any dangerous? Which ones could you not control even if you tried? Which ones are awesome, even if a little weird? How have your quirks changed over the years? Are there more of them now? Are they more pronounced? Harder to control or hide? How much of a pass do you give your loved ones for their idiosyncrasies? Do you give yourself that same leeway? Is it a waste of your time and effort to hide these quirks? How different would it be if you embraced them completely? What step can you take today to be more unapologetically authentic? I dare you! Leave me a reply and let me know, How will you stake a claim to your weirdness?

All of you is beautiful,

William

P.S. If this helped you see yourself differently or helped to give yourself a break today, please share it. Encourage authenticity!