The Courage To Be Just Like Everyone Else
By: Keneth Gadian
Tags: Reflections, Authenticity, Different, Personal Essay, Life

‘They laugh at me because I’m different; I laugh at them because they’re all the same.”

That’s my bio on my Facebook account many years ago. Along with weird YouTube videos, quotes of ancient philosophers, dark humor memes, Photos That Are Not Aesthetic, Tolstoy and Rumi, more quotes on nihilism and taking the road less taken, my timeline was a protest against being ordinary. I was throwing a question at my generation: What’s wrong with being different?

I was in love with that mantra. When my classmates were reading Harry Potter, I picked up Stephen King. When Jansports bags were a thing, I wore a bear-shaped bag to school. My next favorite bag was a black bag with eyes and teeth. When people were lining up for a new Marvel Studios movie, I was organizing a film screening of Borgman (a weird Dutch film) and claimed it was my genre. I cringed over K-pop and K-drama just because almost everybody suddenly became a fan. When asked a question, I had to think of an unpopular and uncommon answer. I was different and flaunting it. Blessed are the weird ones for they are the most true. Or so I thought.

Now if I could go back in time and comment on that bio, I will challenge the big pretension behind that quote and type in all caps: So why are you laughing back? WHAT’S SO WRONG ABOUT BEING ORDINARY AND COMMON?

As I was rummaging over my old stuff yesterday, I found my notebook from First Year. On the first page is the first activity of my Understanding the Self class, a simple Introduce-Your-Self. I wrote in my notes: “I’m from UP. I hate coffee. I watch classic films and I paint in my free time. I was not really the ‘seminarian type’ growing up.”

Lies! I was half cringing and half laughing at myself while reading it. Here’s this boy, so nervous about the first day of school, pretending to be somebody he’s not. What’s with this obsession with being perceived as unique and amazing anyway? Had I been truthful, I would have shared how like most people in the room, I was also raised in a typical Catholic family. I was hooked on Naruto and Marvel movies and my free times are spent browsing Facebook; and no — I don’t hate coffee. But I did not say these. They would sound lame. I really thought that when I insistently project to be deviant and special since highschool, I was just bravely expressing my self. Now looking back, I’m beginning to see how many times I did it because I want to be liked. Actually, it’s craving to be liked. It didn’t come from a place of courage (to be true). It was a reflex coming from a place of fear: fear of being seen as boring, fear of being less interesting, fear of not being loved.

You only need to look around to see that this fear is present everywhere:

I know of a girl who struggles financially but would borrow money and lots of dresses from friends just to have that perfect #OOTD post and visit that newly-opened vintage cafe in town. I know of a boy who loves his mother and two sisters but didn’t even finch while blurting out a sickening rape joke to his friends. As if to say “I’m not some boring good boy. I’m a rule-breaker, watch me.” Every time he gets his expected applause. Laughters. I know of a young priest so desperate to project a rogue image to his sacristans that he goes with them to smoke and drink beer as if to say “I’m not your typical old-school clergy. I’m different. I’m cooler than them, right?”

“We are a fearful people,” Henri Nouwen opened his book Lifesigns. He observed how most of our decisions, questions, and even self-expressions are driven by different kinds of fear. I was so afraid to go through the semester without friends that I would even go to the extent of lying to get strangers to like me. “We are a lonely generation,” I’d like to add.

Why are we are so willing to trade honesty for uniqueness, principles for attention, goodness for greatness… all because we want to be loved? We are desperately lonely and it shows. I’m starting to think that most evil in the world are not caused by people who are bad but by people who are sad.

It takes time and much introspection to realize that people are not attracted to us because we stand out from the crowd. If that’s true, shouldn’t the PhD holders, millionaires and performance artists have the most number of friends? It’s not really about talents and achievements. It’s not about what only we can do. People are drawn to us because we are authentic. Because we feel human.

Vanity asks: “Is this popular? Does it make me look good?’

Conformity asks: “Is this safe? Will the majority like this?”

Authenticity simply asks: “ Is this me?”

People who are most loved and most free are those who cry, laugh, get angry, create, dress up, hug, shout, punch, compliment and write because it’s how they feel. Because it’s who they are — without worrying if it will please others or not. They wear bear-shaped bags because they love bears. They go to Starbucks because they love the coffee there and they can afford anyway. They post their artworks that are less than perfect because they understand that they are still learning. They are not ashamed to say that they are broke, that they graduated from a public school. They are not afraid to admit that they don’t know how to use Photoshop. They don’t pretend to be somebody they are not. After all, what’s so amazing about an introduction if it’s not true? What’s so unique about a reputation if it’s not you?

Ironically, in our time of filters, catfishing, credit-grabbing, and pretension, being authentic is the most deviant we can get.

One of the biggest lie the world made us believe is that when we are just like everyone else, we will be less loved. We spend our lives trying to project that we are different. We mock sentiments and interests that are mainstream. Yet the very things that are common to us are the things that connect us. Even the most deviant human being is still a human being. “Nobody can understand me” is a myth. Underneath the makeup, the dress, the skin and the flesh, we are the same. No human is too different to not have experienced guilt, grief, happiness or love. Because of these shared vulnerability and joy, we are able to relate to each other and enter into meaningful relationships. To be human is to embrace the uniqueness that makes us diverse and the similarities that make us connected.

Because of our common origin and end, no one is truly unique. Because of our different experiences and potential, no one is truly ordinary. Capturing this beautifully is our Christian belief that : “God loves all of us AND God loves each of us in a unique and special way.” You are very special and loved… just like everyone else.

So fear not. Have the courage to be disliked. Believe me when I say that there are people out there who love us despite of and because of our ordinariness. Same is true with our weirdness. There are people out there whose look of pride and admiration for us don’t change a bit whether we wear a tuxedo for an award or just a sando and jersey shorts on a lazy afternoon. You are loved. Even before you make that athletic leap. Even before you made it to the Dean’s List. You are loved from the moment that you were without hair nor teeth .. just like everyone else.

It’s totally fine to be weird and different. That bag with teeth and eyes is still my favorite. I still watch bizzare YouTube videos and do hobbies only a few people appreciate. You are in the VIP row and Lady Gaga is calling to you:“You are born this way, baby!” But it’s also totally fine that like most people, you don’t go to concerts. That you just love watching Naruto and K-drama. It’s fine that you are not super smart or super talented and you love wearing t-shirt and jeans. It’s fine that like a typical Filipino Catholic, you still pray before meals and before sleeping. It’s totally fine that like everyone else, you love the stereotyped smell of coffee and books.

There’s no shame in that.

As long as it’s true.

As long as it’s you.