The Chameleon as it is Laid Out Today

Thoughts On Belonging…

1/2022

For much of my life I have felt like a chameleon. Ever changing to blend into my surroundings, never sure if I truly fit in and not wanting the embarrassment of finding out in front of other people. I have taken pride in reading the room and melding with the group. I can be loud and rockus, I can be quiet and intellectual. I watch and listen just enough to read who to be and then I jump in. And I jump all in. I do have my own traits of course, which I find lovely, I’m not berating myself by accepting my chameleon ways. I just also have insecurity when it comes to belonging. I want so bad to belong. I want to fit in and I want to be loved and accepted. But I worry that I won’t if I don’t fit in with the group. I do want it prefaced that although I like to blend in, I do know who my people are. I have a sense of where I want to belong, it’s just that I have hidden parts of myself away in the name of belonging.

               When I was a kid, I loved dressing in boy’s clothing. I knew I looked cool. I remember begging my mom for Transformer underpants from the boy’s section of Macy’s, but was directed over to Strawberry Shortcake. I obliged, but the memory of that moment in my life still shines like crystal in my mind. In Middle school I took my dad’s old jeans. They were way too big on me, full of holes and frayed ends. They were perfect. I remember the day my mom didn’t say no when I walked out for breakfast wearing them, I felt like I was dressed ready to take on my fourteen year old world! In high school my favorite outfit was my boyfriend’s work pants and boxer shorts. I loved the baggy look and I loved that I was dressed in clothes that were designed for the gender I was not. I was conflicted though. This was not what I had been taught on Dawson’s Creek and Saved By The Bell. Girls dress cute and act coy and when they do that, they get the boy. I guess I’ll just wear the boy’s pants when I’m alone. My senior year of high school I shaved my head. I was so scared to do it, but I wanted it SO BAD. I wanted the hardcore look. I wanted the shock value, and I wanted to see if it fit me. It did. It fit perfect. Throw a little blue hair dye on there and I was ready!

               But I was not ready to learn that people at school suddenly had opinions about my sexuality and talked about me behind my back. I was not ready to feel more self-conscious than I did when I put on a dress or tried so fucking hard to pick out a “cute” outfit at the clothing store. My choice reminded me that I didn’t belong in society as it was laid out in 1999. I decided to grow my hair out and once it was shoulder length, I got layers and bangs cut. Back to trying to fit in.

               When I met the person that I would come to marry, and the person that, today, I plan to spend the rest of my life with, I was less concerned about the style I sported and more concerned with fitting in as a grown up. Being a grown up meant a job, marriage, home ownership, a kid, or maybe 2 and live happily ever after. This is how belonging in society was laid out in the early 2000’s, and is still laid out today. Shit, it’s the way it has been laid out for forever. So that’s just what I did with this lovely person. I worked hard to join the Grownup Club. I set my unique style aside and I did all the things from my 1990’s “how to get a guy” TV education. I cut my hair with layers and bangs, I found cute outfits, I did the dance, and honestly, I loved every minute of it because I was falling in love with this wonderful person. This person who was a little bit reserved, up for anything, and had a unique style all their own, just like the one I had set aside.

               It wasn’t until we got married that we traded our misgendered clothing for the “proper” look and said, “I do” under the most amazing, ancient oak tree. I don’t think I was conscious of what I was doing, but, in my unconscious mind and in my heart, I believed it was time to grow up and set the youthful style aside. You made it to the land of the grownups! Now fit in with the way you look and feel and start saving for a house! So we did. We saved and bought the house. We kept plants alive. Then we adopted a dog and kept her alive. Then we took the leap and made a kid and worked so so hard to keep her alive. We were doing it! We were grownups! We belonged to the club! But inside we were fighting against where we really belonged.

               I could go into the details of the time when our child was young, but it would derail my thoughts on belonging. My spouse realized that they did not belong in society as it was laid out in 2015 and they began to discover where they really did fit in. They have taken steps to belong where it matters most- in their own skin and heart. At first this was terrifying for me. I had worked so hard to blend into society and I was ready to spend the rest of my life working to belong that way. I could do it with my style and I could do it as a chameleon. I didn’t always like it, but I was prepared to be a grown up and fit in with the world around me. But as my spouse has worked to be their most authentic self, I too have finally let down my guard and have put a microscope up to my idea of belonging.

               For me, my insecurity plays a big part in who I set out to be. I don’t think I fully understand who my most authentic self is because I’ve spent a life time trying to fit into my surrounding and what the world around me dictates. Things like sexual identity and gender identity don’t fit into the mold of society. I think we are starting to scratch the surface with younger generations, but for me at 40, a child of the 90’s, these are not things we talk about. When I shaved my head and was whispered about, it was shameful to be considered sexually different. It might have actually rung true for me, but I had to shove it aside, push it down because that is not a way to belong. That is a way to turn yourself into gossip. To belong is to stretch who you are to fit in with the molds society has laid out, the molds that media creates. We want so badly to fit the mold, we sacrifice who we are so we don’t stand out.

               I think if I were a teen today, I might have been able to discover where I belonged. For me belonging is tied to my sexual identity and in today’s world there are words for it. Asexual, Pansexual, bisexual, demisexual. The list is endless and it makes space for everyone willing to look at who they actually are, not who society dictates they should be. Please know that I am not saying that youth today has it easier than me, I think quite the contrary actually. The addition of social media makes belonging even harder. As the youth of today work just as hard as I did to belong, they are met with the harsh opinions of their peers laid out on the internet, not whispers in the halls. No way to be a chameleon in today’s social media world. We look for others to validate our belonging with “likes” and comments on the pictures we show. I don’t use social media much anymore because I don’t crave the opinions or validations of others.

               My true authentic self is just emerging, and for the first time in my life, I am aware of it. I am aware that my style of partially shaved head, combat boots and baggy clothing IS ME. I belong! I belong to ME. The person I married showed me that I can waive my identity flag with pride, just as they waive theirs. We belong to ourselves and in doing so we belong to our family. We look for intrinsic validation instead of likes on Instagram. I belong today more than I ever have because I am not trying to blend into a society that does not fit me. I feel more excited to be myself, experiment with things that excite me and be curious about what I want instead of worrying about what society tells me I must have to belong.

               And yet, as I write this, I start to second guess myself. Is this me or is this me still just trying to fit in? Am I really looking at my past and not knowing what is truth and what is fiction? Am I so repressed with self-identity that I really have no idea who I am? I kinda think so… It’s a crazy thought to be 40 years old and jut be scratching the surface of myself. It makes me feel a multitude of emotions. Sadness for the self I do not know. Excitement for the person I get to be. Curiosity to answer the question, who do I want to be? Embarrassment that I haven’t figured it out yet. I see that I need to be brave enough to admit to myself and to others what is truth and what is blending. I’m worried that people will wonder what the hell is going on with me- one minute I’m demanding I’m cis gendered and straight and the next I’m realizing I could be queer. I guess I am still concerned with what others think of me… honesty, isn’t it a bear.

               Well, it seems like I’m opening the door to a journey. I hope I’m brave enough to go on. To keep walking, keep exploring and keep accepting my truth as truth. I don’t need to fit in, I just need to be me.

Previous
Previous

What This White Woman of Privilege is Doing on the Fourth of July

Next
Next

Motherhood. Do It With a Smile