Tag Archives: fitting in

Magnet for the marginalized

I spent most of my younger years trying so hard to be cool. I desperately wanted to fit in, to feel normal. But, the harder I tried, the more different I felt. The other kids knew it. As much as I tried to keep my secret from them, and even from me, they knew it. I was different.

Life continued, with me watching from the sidelines. Marginalized. Things happened. Experiences shaped my perspective, and even changed the trajectory of my life. That’s what happens to all of us, our experiences become the filter through which we view life. Good experiences give you a great view. Bad experiences, well…

Eventually, I escaped the sidelines. Somehow, I fabricated a better version of me, and no one caught on that the old me was still inside. I finally appeared to fit in. No matter that it didn’t feel that way to me. I was fine with the illusion.

Fast forward a few decades: I dropped the illusion and uncovered the real me. I put in a shit ton of work on her, and didn’t care about fitting in anymore. Funny, because that’s when I developed the most authentic relationships of my life. Go figure.

Of course, we all know that letting my light shine was a bit too much for some, so again, I was marginalized. It stung. But that’s ok. I’d outgrown them, anyway. It’s just a sad story, now.

Revealing the real Jami meant she could do anything she wanted. That’s what authenticity is, right? On top of the world. Badass mom. Best friend. Superstar nurse. The sky’s the limit.

But what I found I wanted was to connect with people who were like the old me. Or, the current me, depending on who you are asking. The marginalized. I was drawn to them like a magnet. Volunteering for the most difficult to love patients in my work life. Connecting with lost souls, hoping my offering of validation would allow them to be seen.

People just want to be seen, without having to earn it.

I spent a good year caring for a patient named Bill. No one else wanted to. His house was dirty. He was dirty. He didn’t care. Well, he didn’t seem to. He swore at most of the nurses and turned a lot of them away. He was the kind of guy most would roll their eyes at when they got assigned to him. But, for some reason, he liked me. And even though he never did anything I instructed him to do, I enjoyed taking care of him. I pretended his house wasn’t a mess. I pretended he wasn’t a mess. Or more so, I overlooked those things. They didn’t define who he was. They were just symptoms of something else. Like a fever.

I looked him in the eye when we spoke. I complemented him on his taste in music. I laughed at his jokes. I didn’t rush through our visits. I treated him like a human being, not a burden. He felt seen.

I wasn’t pretending. I did see him. No one will ever feel unseen around me, because I know what it’s like to be invisible. I may be a badass mom and a superstar nurse, but I identify as marginalized. The people who made me feel this way did it to punish me, but the joke’s on them. It’s actually a gift. It keeps me humble while I change the world, one little interaction at a time.

This post was written in response to Linda G Hills Stream of Consciousness Saturday

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Reunion

I just got home from my 30th high school reunion. I was a pretty shy and insecure kid in high school. I had my small group of friends, who I still keep around me today. But there’s a huge number of people who I’ve never even said hello to, in all the four years we were in that building together. I was mostly invisible. Although I put a lot of effort into being cool and fitting in, I also put a lot of effort into being invisible. I think I was torn with craving connection and fearing rejection. I didn’t have the words to put on it at the time, I just knew I was different. I think that’s a pretty common feeling for kids who grow up in a home like mine.

I was asked to be on the reunion committee this year. I wasn’t really sure why they chose me, and I was surprised, but I said yes. All summer, I kept wondering what my role was, as they seemed to have the logistics all figured out. I wasn’t really contributing much, and felt like they probably regretted asking me. As the date neared, we hadn’t sold very many tickets. I was thinking social media had pretty much ruined reunions, as we all know what everyone’s had for dinner and where their kids go to school and whatnot. What’s left to catch up on? I reached out to a few former classmates, asking if they were going. I was surprised, and saddened to hear a common response, something along the lines of, “I hated the reunion I went to before. All the popular people were still popular, and with alcohol added to the mix, were even more popular, while I sat alone.” That was the basic theme, and it struck a chord in me. We are all in our late 40s now, and many are still feeling like the insecure kids we used to be. It makes sense, as we carry around our inner child everywhere. That child guides our decisions, whether we realize it or not. Until we do something brave to heal him or her.

I decided to do something about it, which is pretty ironic, coming from the unpopular kid. But, I did it, anyway.

I wrote a post to our reunion Facebook wall, talking to the people who didn’t want to go. I told them about how hard I tried to fit in, which was dumb, because changing yourself to fit in means YOU aren’t really fitting in at all. You are just pretending. And I told them my biggest regret was spending energy on feeling different and unlikable, instead of getting to know the hundreds of kids around me who likely felt similar. And let’s face it…we are all the same. Sure, we are unique and different, but as human beings, we all crave connection. We are hard-wired for it. And we all, in one way or another, fear rejection. And the people who weren’t going to this reunion were likely afraid that the connection wouldn’t happen, and they would return to that insecure kid sitting alone.

I had found my role on the committee.

I put words on the elephant in the classroom. Because even though it’s 30 years later, the little kid in some of us is still afraid or uncomfortable. And we all know how I like to put words on the uncomfortable things inside us, because it takes it’s power away. If anyone knows about rejection and fear, it’s me. I’m sure half the people reading that post had no idea who I was. And if I’m being honest, I was a little nervous making that post to all those people who never even spoke to me in high school. It was so easy to slip back into that feeling of needing to be invisible so I wouldn’t feel rejection. But, I did it anyway. That’s my superpower now…being afraid, but doing it anyway. And do you know what? It worked. It took the power away from the insecurity of going to a high school reunion and gave it back to many people. People who weren’t going to attend ended up showing up. Even though they were nervous, they did it anyway. That’s pretty brave. I saw people talking to people they normally would have never spoken to…including myself. Also brave. I think everyone made some pretty great connections tonight. We seemed to have all matured enough to do this, and were grateful to just be there together. I introduced myself to so many former classmates, many not knowing who I was, yet they were all receptive…and I saw others doing the same. I have so many new friends now, and the people I was sure wouldn’t be interested in talking with me, they actually were! And the people I assumed were “snobs” back in the day, actually weren’t! And the one’s I thought were shady…well, some of them still kind of are, but that’s ok; it makes for a great “how was the reunion” story! (Being one of the few divorced singles at a high school reunion makes for some interesting stories…I’ll save them for another day.)

It makes me wonder what people thought of me back then, and who they learned I am now. Is it different? I realized you really can’t know who a person is by what they were like in high school, because really…that’s just your perception. Every experience you have in life is filtered by your perception, which is shaped by your own experiences. It’s different for everyone. I think we are starting to learn that. We were all cool and popular tonight, speaking from our hearts and from a place of honesty, respect and love. I felt like I fit in with everyone tonight, and I didn’t have to change a single thing about who I am. And I know others feel the same. That’s some pretty good stuff right there.

There just wasn’t enough time to connect with everyone on the level I was hoping to, but we made a pretty good start. I’m proud of us…and I hope we continue choosing to be brave and taking our power back. The little kid in each of us deserves that.

See you guys in five years!

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