My family may never understand me, and that’s okay.
I’ve spent too long caring about what others think of me. I’ve withheld achieving my dreams because I was afraid.
My whole life, I’ve felt like an outcast around my family. I’ve been criticized because I don’t enjoy partying. I don’t enjoy social events, period. I’m happiest when I’m in a room with my cat, my computer, and a good book.
I was criticized for taking a book with me everywhere I go. Most parents have to beg their children to read. Me, I read everywhere, and I still do. My parents had to beg me to put a book down.
I’ve been called an “airhead” because I don’t pay attention to the news. I do keep up with current events, but I filter the information I take in. We all do. What’s important to one person may not be important to me, and that’s okay. I recently read something about how we only truly absorb about twenty percent of the information thrown at us each day, which means it’s possible for four people to retain entirely different information while watching the same news program.
My family members watch sports. I don’t. My family members like listening to loud music. I don’t. My family members prefer a meat and potato diet. I prefer exploring different cuisines.
That’s all okay. I’m me, and it’s time I start being the me I am, rather than trying to morph myself to meet others’ ideologies of who I should be.