Sarah Nyhan

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not and never will be “normal”.

I think in essence being “normal” is a completely different thing than being “professional”. But in practice I think people think they are the same thing.

And that’s fine. People are entitled to the culture of their choosing. None of my business.

But I feel them looking down on me. Because of what I share. I’m sure many think it is too personal. That I am sabotaging my chances of ever having a “professional” career. That I am alienating myself from having certain friendships and being accepted into certain groups.

That’s fine. I’ve had to make peace with that.

I don’t think God wanted me so much to believe in Them.

I mean that’s pretty easy. Just take a few walks in nature. Just be on this planet for a short time.

No, I think God wanted me to believe in myself. That I have value exactly as I am. Without masking and performing enough to get picked first when it comes to corporations white-washing everyone. So as to squeak through on that tightrope of not possibly offending anyone. At least legally.

I never have been “normal”. That shipped sailed the minute I was conceived. It’s just taken me over forty years to realize it. 

When you spend actual time around those people, versus just seeing them from a distance, it’s glaringly obvious that they will always see you as an outsider. You will never fit in.

They were prepared for that life since before they were conceived. Their parents were raised a certain way. They were expected to pick specific partners. The narrative of their life was decided before they even had a chance to know of any other options.

And then here I come along. Being told that is what I need to aspire to. For what? 

For financial security?
For relational security?
For physical safety?

If I believe in The Real God then security in another’s approval is fallacy. It doesn’t exist. 

Sure, for a time. While they’re performing for you. And you’re performing for them.

I can’t take that masking anymore. Actually, I never could. That’s why I never lasted. 

When you’ve been through what I’ve been through, just existing enough to stay out of trouble is exhausting. I have no energy to try to keep up with whoever the Joneses are. Professionally. Or in religious circles. Or neighborhood cliques. Whoever. Whatever. Just impossible for me.

So, finally not doing it anymore. Just being me. Not chasing anyone’s approval. In the corporate world for a career. In the religious world for any acceptance. In the relational world for anyone to tolerate me.

It is what it is, bitches. 😁 

I know I’m far from the person I wish I was. But I know I am not a terrible person. I try so fucking hard every day to be better to myself and others. But if that’s not enough then so be it. It’s not like being alone is new to me anymore. 

And if I can’t enjoy myself and my own company then why would I expect anyone else to?

I’m embarrassed now. Although I have to give myself grace as I was doing only what I was taught to do. But I cringe looking back now at all the places and ways I tried to fit in. It must have been so obvious to them. Me basically the equivalent of an elephant trying to masquerade around in a ballerina tutu like no one is going to notice. Bitch, please. 

“Failure” in that sense is just a filter. For who really is interested in you. Heard someone say that recently. 

And I should be glad, right? To identify who is really down for me. Who has enough of their own to not be threatened by me standing out from the crowds. 

Not that I’m specifically trying to. It’s just what I was given to work with. Start with the physical huge boobs and then every level down from that. External to internal. 

There was never a chance.

For me to fit in by trying to be like everyone else. Specifically in the sanitized and sterilized corporate world. 

I left God completely out of the picture when it came to my career. All I did was try to make myself smaller – in every sense. Not even considering that maybe God knew exactly what They were doing when Life made me stand out.

I had to finally approve of myself. Finally accept myself. Finally have confidence in who I am and what I bring to the table.

If being “professional” means creating every barrier to providing actual customer service, then I don’t want to be “professional”. 

If being “professional” means building in product failure so we can charge customers for replacements sooner rather than later, then you can kiss my ass. I don’t want to be that kind of “professional”. 

If being “professional” means raping workers for every last cent while executives lick their lips on their yachts after raping kids then you can also kiss my ass. I don’t want that kind of “corporate”. 

If being “professional” means exploiting foreign labor and polluting the environment all in the name of quarterly bonuses, then I think you are a horrible human and I want no part of it.

Sorry, not sorry.

If I factor God into it then I have to believe I am not the only one. I have to believe there is someone out there that isn’t threatened by me talking about stuff online. By me having gigantic boobs. By me not being raised in the whole prep school plastic surgery yacht life. That good ol’ soap and water will do when it comes to giving a shit about how we actually treat people. Customers, employees, vendors, and competitors alike.

I just gotta be me. 

If that means I lose everyone I knew, even the ones I thought were closest, then so be it. At least I’ll finally have energy to enjoy my own company. 

I’m not a bad person just because I don’t fit into your little definition of what passes for “professional” for “corporate” approval. Real life is way more nuanced than that.

I have hope that there are others out there that will see and value me not in spite of but because of who I am. Scars and all. Who will appreciate the ways I stand out. Instead of recoiling at how I just by existing challenge the status quo.