Owning My Weird Without Apology

Self & Identity series

I’ve spent so much of my life trying to smooth out my edges, trying to fit myself into boxes that were never built for me. Be normal. Be likable. Be palatable. Be less… me.

But the truth is—I’m weird. Always have been. The way I think. The way I move through the world. The way my brain grabs onto little details and makes stories out of them. The way I find beauty in things people overlook, or laugh at moments others take too seriously.

And I’ve hidden it. Tried to tuck it away because I thought it made me “too much” or “not enough” depending on who you asked. But hiding it just left me feeling hollow. Like I was editing myself down to a version that didn’t even feel alive.

What if I just owned it? What if I said, yeah, I’m different, and that’s the point. What if my weird is my gift, my fingerprint, the thing that makes me unforgettable instead of unworthy?

I don’t want to apologize for being who I am anymore. Not in whispers. Not in explanations. Not in half-versions of myself.

My weird is my freedom. And I want to walk in it without shrinking, without excuses, without fear.