For thirty years where have I been?
Eyes open but not getting through to me.
-Dream Theater, “Octavarium”

I wrote a little while ago about the struggles that I’ve had to confirm and retain my identity in the face of societal expectations. It’s something that I’ve wrestled with all my life — coming to terms with the fact that the things that I was told all my life that I should do, the things that I should work towards, the things that I should enjoy and find fulfilling; coming to terms with the fact that these things don’t mesh with the things that I want.

This is not something that I’ve just started dealing with, which may explain my frustration with the topic. I’ve been fighting with my parents’ ideals and goals, and to some extent, greater society on the whole, since I was in my teens. I wanted to be a musician; I should have been an engineer, or a lawyer, or a computer scientist, because those things pay good money (especially working with computers), which will allow me to have a family and provide and blahblahblahblah. And I never was too good at wearing the things that I was supposed to wear, or listening to what everyone else did, or thinking or saying things that went along with the mainstream.

I’ve learned over time that being someone outside the norm is a wonderful thing. There are all sorts of benefits – you’re more noticeable, more memorable. You think differently than most, and so your outside-the-box contributions are often in demand. And you don’t feel pressure like most do, if you learn to accept the place that you’ve put yourself; there’s no keeping up with the Joneses. Occasionally, something you do comes into vogue, and you’re a trendsetter for a little while.

But it’s not easy. Not always, at least. My brain, for a long time, has to varying extents continued to choose between what I want and what people want for me, often getting the two catalogued into the wrong category.

Kasey held up a mirror to me today, though, and while I am perfectly aware of what’s going on in my head — introspection ain’t pretty but it sure is fun! — it was a good reality check for someone else to slap me in the face with my own advice. After all, if I can’t follow it, who can? And who would, for that matter?
Lately I’ve come back to sorting through what’s me and what’s the brainwashing (poor choice of word, though not completely) I’ve picked up all my life. That’s tough, figuring out what you really want, especially when you’ve trained yourself to second guess and question every answer. But you have to force yourself through these conversations with all the voices, to figure out where you are, where you want to go, and how you should best get there. Not to mention figuring out which voices are yours and which are your families’, friends’, whatever. And which ones just need a little more alcohol, because you’ve got to sleep sometime, damn it.

The point of all this, though, is not that I’m struggling with my identity. We all do that (right?). I’ve got a ways to go to get all this figured out, and I’m okay with that.

This is more of a public thanks, to Kasey, specifically, for accepting me as I am and letting me know that she does. But also to Wade, and James and Mandy and Katie and Mom and Dad and so many others who have (mostly) not given me grief about my choices and decisions, for realizing it’s my life and I am the only one who can live it (at least, where the parents are concerned, for the past decade or so). It’s important when reestablishing who you are to have people behind you that will support you, especially if you are making unconventional changes in your life, or when you’re trying to get back to an unconventional or unpopular state.

Those who spend their lives with their well-being dependent on making other people happy, on living up to the expectations, of others, are destined to be miserable. Doing your own thing doesn’t guarantee you happiness, but it’s a much better path to follow than the alternative, I suggest. Though again, I watch Wonder Showzen and laugh like there’s no tomorrow, so my advice might be better off on a bar napkin at Bailey’s on a Saturday night.

If you have someone in your life who does eccentric or quirky or strange things, and those things don’t hurt you and don’t risk hurting the other person, why not support them? Just because you don’t like tattoos or long hair, or blue jeans and polo shirts, or country music or FRIENDS, why not tell them that it’s great that they do? Or just shut up about it, because do you really want them doing exactly what you do?

They have their own lives to lead, as do you. If you’re going to be travelling the same path for a while, it might be best for you to be ready to support them, as you hope they will be ready for you to do.