Fitting In

Ever since I could remember, it was important to “fit in”. After all isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?

At a very early age we instinctively set out to establish our place in the social hierarchy. It’s human nature and an essential part of socialization that persists throughout our lifetimes.

Most of us are taught about the so-called “tried and true” methods, that when followed to the letter acts as a virtual road map to leading a productive, meaningful life. Follow the rules, study hard and get a college degree. If you’re able to “stay the course” then you can tackle the next set of societal routines i.e. marriage, children and the perpetual “building a life” for yourself.  But what happens to those who took the wrong turn at Albuquerque?

What price do you pay for opting-out of the traditional passage? Where do they house those operating on the fringe of society?  Speaking from personal experience, they don’t.

For starters, I’m a mixed race and though not uncommon was something that was emphasized by others when I was growing up. Being half Japanese and half Caucasian occasionally brought on the daft slim eyed jokes. The flagrant ignorance didn’t help matters. Newsflash: Chinese is not the only Asian culture! Not that there’s anything wrong with being Chinese, if you ARE.

This was my introduction to “Dude, where’s my spot?” It’s not nearly as daunting as I make it sound (I do have a flair for the dramatic) but there’s something to be said about wanting to be like everybody else. Or so I thought.

Still, I remained hell bent on conquering the futile concept of finding my crowd though I never quite established a foothold. For as long as I can remember, I always sensed some sort odd man out disposition.  

In high school, I had friends in various cliques as opposed to being part of one in particular. If variety is the spice of life, mine was assorted. I didn’t feel atypical per se and wasn’t even consciously aware since I was hardly an outcast. More like a welcomed outsider; a social circuit floater of sorts.

It was post high school when the more significant “veering off” occurred and my “make it up as I go along” practices began to flourish. I elected to start working instead of attending a university and although I have taken quite a few courses to gain the necessary tools specific to my occupational endeavors, my scholastic participation was intermittent at best.

Just as with all of us, there are many different hurdles and phases that take place while we trudge through our own personal development. We take on different jobs, places, mindsets and people. None so different to me than when I moved to Los Angeles.

I will preface by stating that I have nothing against LA in general but relocating from the Midwest left me grossly unprepared to deal with the emphasis on external beauty. There’s a saying “you attract what you need” and depending on my mood, the jury is still out on that one.

It didn’t take long before I encountered my backhanded makeover intervention. Everyone seemed to be in on it, a virtual community effort consisting of co-workers, friends, hairstylists and the guy down in 3B.  Did I forget anyone? Needless to say it impacted the way I saw myself and more importantly the way I thought I should be.

I yearned to become as stylish, beautiful and a size two like most of the women around.  Back then, size two was still considered small J I knew if I aimed for better style, the appropriate level of chic and had a successful executive career then I’d be “in”. So I forged ahead and did my best to hobnob with my version of the “ideal”. There I was, armed with false confidence and a moderately upgraded veneer of myself only to find that I wasn’t any happier. Where did I go wrong?

I’m certainly not suggesting that people avoid trying new things or ways to improve themselves because there’s always room for that. I’ve certainly reaped positive benefits through trial and error. I just started to realize that knowing where the line between authentic and synthetic begins and ends was going to be vital to my self esteem. Quite frankly, it has been known to be a little blurry.

I could offer up a litany of stories detailing different case scenarios but that would be superfluous. Everyone experiments in finding out “who” they are or “where” they fit in to some extent. It’s the process that gives way to experience and understanding that leads to wisdom; God willing.

If all goes well, your individual compass will shift towards what you want and appreciate vs. a generally accepted standard. I’ll let you in on a secret, no such standard exists. Yeah, don’t expect violins to be playing while champagne flows from the heavens but arguably it should lighten the load.

A friend once told me that “I would never fit in.” He meant it to be a compliment and I couldn’t agree more.

This isn’t a fait accompli by any means. It’s an ongoing process since we’re always changing and growing. So where do I fit in? Wherever I feel protected and there’s room for me because I believe that’s essence of “being comfortable in your own skin”.  Reporting from the fringe…