The more things change ...

... the more they stay the same.

I found an old blog entry I wrote a couple of years ago, and never posted. It still perfectly fits the way I feel, so I've decided to post it.

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What do you do when something doesn't fit? If it's an item of clothing, the answer is sometimes easy - as simple as moving a button on a waistband, letting a seam out, or taking it in. When it's the new chest of drawers that won't quite slide into that gap after all, you move the rest of the furniture around to accomodate it. Problem solved!

But what do you do when the thing that doesn't fit is yourself? When you have friends you would love to spend more time with, but you just don't enjoy the same things as they do? Or when there are things that you have always wanted to do, but you're so scared to do anything alone that you would rather miss out on doing them? How about when you work at a job you hate, for a fairly low wage, with no hope of promotion, because you chose to turn down the training programme you were offered, rather than have to prove yourself to your managers, even though you know as well as they do that you could have easily passed the programme, with a bit of determination?

I don't fit in. I'm not outgoing, and confident, like some of my friends, or witty and sarcastic like others. I'm not pretty, slim, or fashionable, like the other 20-something girls I know. I don't drive, having never had the courage to learn. I'm single, and always have been, so I don't get to join in the relationship discussions. People don't quite know what to make of me, so they usually give up and leave me alone, which I used to think suited me just fine. Now I'm not so sure.

If I sound bitter and lonely, it's because I am. It's a Sunday night, and as usual, I'm sitting at the computer, wondering what my friends are doing. Whether T is having a good 21st birthday weekend, with her partner and 6 month old son, or whether M is settling into a quiet evening at home, with her month old baby, who, despite my assertions that I don't want, or even like, children, is so absolutely perfect that I cried after I saw and held her at a week old. I wonder whether the rest of my friends are still at the pub, just relaxing and enjoying a night out together. I wonder if there will ever be a day when I feel comfortable enough to go out with them, and not question whether people are staring at us, wondering what normal people like them are doing spending time with someone like me.

Mostly though, I just wonder if there will ever be a time when I'm strong enough to dare to be me. To wear the clothes I like, rather than my usual 'uniform' of leggings and shapeless jumpers. To have my nose pierced, and wear the Goth type jewellery I love so much, or to colour my hair the jet black, or brilliant copper that I have always wanted. To state my opinions on controversial subjects without worrying what the people I'm talking to will think of me afterwards, or to wear the slogan T-shirts that I stay away from now in case I offend anyone. Maybe one day I'll be comfortable enough in my own skin not to flinch when anyone touches me, be they friends or family. I wonder if I'll even let myself trust someone enough to have another relationship ...

... one day, maybe I'll fit.