I have trouble fitting in.

But you probably already know that.

Dear friend,

I often look at other people’s lives and feel weird that I seem to be standing still while they race toward a finish line I didn’t even know existed. I don’t go to parties. I’m never invited to political events. Or events in general, usually. I don’t know how to schmooze or make contacts or be in a group-chat or a discord (I don’t even what that is) or secret peer group. Most of my friends are just people who haven’t given up on me in spite of myself. Sometimes I wish I could send out a note to them to tell them that I love them even though I haven’t spoken to them in months or even years. I wonder if they know how much they mean to me in spite of the anxiety that makes me hide away so often? I wonder if they know about the long imaginary talks we have in my head?

If you are here then you are a part of this lovely community that makes me feel so much less isolated. You are my friend even if we’ve never met. You mean more than you know…both to me and probably to so many others who you might assume never think about you at all but quietly adore the weirdness that is you.

But I suppose the lovely thing about admitting all of this is that I can be exactly who I am (flaws and all) and know that it’s okay. That I haven’t created a false (and - I assume - exhausting) persona of someone who has their shit together and has to fit in to that uncomfortable shape that will probably never be me.

And honestly, how very freeing that can be…

“JUST A REMINDER THAT YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO TWIST YOURSELF INTO KNOTS IN ORDER TO FIT IN.”

Hugs,

me