Maverick

ˈmav(ə)rik/

noun

noun: maverick; plural noun: mavericks

1. an unorthodox or independent-minded person.

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I’ve always felt out of place or out of step. My whole life I felt different.

I was a tall kid and because I stuck out in that way, long before I was overweight, I felt superfluously awkward.

In my nearly 26 years I have met only one person who’s anything like me.

I suppose in some way I should feel better about myself for that, but it always made friendships hard to find and led 95% of the people I grew up around to possess a shallow understanding of me.

All whilst growing up, I felt a lot of shame about being myself.

I’m not normal. Anyone who knows me can tell you.

That would have hurt me to say about 5 years ago. I notice things that other people don’t. I’m a people watcher. I notice people’s jaw lines, cheekbones, the way they look at people, the way they move, how they move, what their movements mean in relation to who they are with, the expressions, whether or not their dimples show, who they’re kind to, who they snub, and I get to know a person in observing them. That freaks people out, I’ve learned. People don’t like to feel watched.

Anyone who is my friend, however, knows to expect that I will watch them. I like to see someone’s joy spread from one crease to all the others. How someone processes their emotions and what that looks like can be beautiful. I find joy in finding people’s beautiful things that they do, say, and are.

Today I was at Tropical Smoothie Cafe and there’s a guy who works there who has this deep gravel-y voice and every time he speaks it makes me smile. So just before I left I ran over to where he was making sandwiches, peered over the low wall, and I told him. I told him that his voice makes me happy and it always makes me smile. He smiled so big. He felt seen and that in itself spread joy from crease to crease. Next I tell him that I love his smile. It’s such a kind, warm, comforting smile.

I’m a photographer, so this love for crease-inducing expression comes in handy.

When I worked at a Tallahassee church in student ministry, all the interns I worked with knew that there would be photos of them. My students too. One of the interns about a year ago, told me that he had never wanted a multitude of pictures of him on Facebook and the like. It hurt my feelings because I think of my work as a labor of love. If I photograph you, it’s because I see something/someone beautiful in some intricate way. He didn’t know that. It’s okay. I recently told him I wasn’t sorry for the photos.

I think a lot of the interns endured my photography of them as an act of love.

It’s one of the ways I communicate. Along with writing of course.

So in recent years as a student ministry intern, working with the high school I noticed that my thought patterns were of interest to a few of my students. My transparency in loving them, pursuing my future, and growing wasn’t scary, in fact it inspired some of them.

I’m a transparent person. I feel things often quite obviously. That’s been another of my hurdles in life.

I hit those hurdles at full speed. I always do.

It’s okay. It’s not a bad thing to have a full understanding of pain.

Pain is prevalent and yet misunderstood.

Society tells us that to be happy is the end all be all.

But to live is to experience emotion on a full spectrum.

That pendulum swings both ways.

On, “Criminal Minds” there’s a character called Penelope Garcia. She is DIFFERENT.

I love it.

Her hair changes colors constantly. Her clothes are loud. She loves color. She is bold, sassy, sexy, hilarious, amazing, kind, curvy, and strong. She lost her parents at a young age, fell off the face of the planet, and somewhere along the way she turned off the road of darkness and slowly but surely began to rebuild.

The actress who plays Garcia, Kirsten Vangsness, is an amazing human, for those of you rolling your eyes at my reference. I love how Kirsten fights for America and fights to empower its citizens.

So I’m different. It’s obvious these days as I have blue hair now.

Most kids think I’m a magical creature, people feel comfortable with me quickly, and it opens me up to meeting more people than I would have.

I’ve been told that I laugh at unusual moments. My strange humor gives many of my friends and family members a lot of joy because it and I are so off-kilter.

I’m a strange bird and I always wanted to be normal. But if I was normal then I wouldn’t have told that guy in tropical smoothie that his voice makes me happy , told the chipotle manager that his cheekbones could slice butter, or danced on the sidewalk during five o’clock traffic.

I’ve learned that if people are confident in being themselves, often others are drawn in by their confidence and think of their idiosyncrasies as lovable personality quirks. But when someone is apologetic for their idiosyncrasies and draws negative attention to them, others are more likely to respond to them the way they fear others will.

Aaaaaaand strut.

Yours Sincerely,

The Undefeated