Divergent
Some of my earliest memories are of “people watching”. I have always been fascinated by observing how people are so very different in so many ways- how they dress, speak, eat, walk and react to circumstances. Granted, it is borderline stalker-ish but it’s one of the most eye opening pastimes.
One of the awkward things about people watching is that dreaded moment when someone catches you looking at them- CRINGE! Almost always, when someone realises they are being watched they change what they are doing.
More often than not, there is something about people being aware that they are being watched that inevitably makes them feel like they are being judged against a standard of what is acceptable/ normal. There’s this weird thing that happens where the same people feel the need to look and act like the ones who are watching them, the ones they seek acceptance and approval from- not realising that the very same people they seek to please are probably putting up a front to seem more normal/acceptable themselves.
The result is an entire section of civilisation occupied by people who suffocate their true nature in order to conform to the popular standard.
Ok- back to my semi- stalker-ish hobby.
As a child, I loved observing how each person around me seemed to be different from the one next to them. My favourite place to ‘people watch’ was Sunday church. I would sit in church for hours, and I mean HOURS- if you have ever been to an African church you would know that church is a daylong affair for us! There were so many different characters.
There was that modestly dressed mama that would weep all the way to the altar to ask for prayer, that zealous brother in a suit who prayed the loudest and most passionate and of course that sister in the choir who wore high heels and red lipstick each Sunday. I loved it!
As a teenager, something changed. I became more aware of just how different I was from the people I watched around me. In most cases I was much taller than them, my dress size was probably double theirs, my clothes were never as fashionable as theirs and my life seemed much less interesting than theirs.
Inevitably I tried to look and act more like them in order to gain their acceptance and approval. That was the most exhausting and least rewarding full time job I have ever had- and I am grateful that my attempts at 'fitting in' failed epically.
One of the most liberating aspects of my journey with Christ is knowing and accepting that I was not designed to fit in. I mean, duh, my DNA prohibits me from fitting in- I’m almost 1.8 meters tall- I clearly was built to stand out- literally.
I have come to the realisation that trying to 'fit in' is not only a futile pursuit but it an insult to the One who knit every fibre of my being together and breathed life into me. I believe I was made in the image of God to reflect His beauty. That means every quirk about my personality and appearance is a direct reflection of God’s nature and I get to show it off to the world.
I gave up on trying to conform to the popular standard!
I dared to be me.
"If you live for people's acceptance, you'll die from their rejection"- Lecrae