A letter to my teenage son — about being different

My dear son,

When I was a kid, I was afraid to be different.

My parents moved to Vancouver when I was 6. We were different people in a new country. I was afraid and wanted to fit in. I wanted to look like my friends in school, lighter hair, brown or blue eyes. When I started liking girls I only liked girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. I hated being different.

My parents packed me weird lunches. Rice and chicken, or noodles in a thermos. Why couldn’t they just be normal! Why couldn’t they pack me something normal like a sandwich! Even my lunch was different. I threw away a lot of lunches.

I really want to tell you that it is OK to be different. And different is good. Different is interesting and special.

But you won’t understand that now. It is hard to see it when you’re 12.

When you grow up, you will see how being different makes us special. How adults work so hard to be different so they can stand out. And then this thing that makes us different becomes the norm.

I use to long for sandwiches in school. Now I get complaints when I pack a sandwich for your lunch. Hot lunch at school is not just hotdogs anymore. Hot lunch is now pasta or sushi and dumplings. Yum!

Everyone is looking to be different. To be something unique.

I wish I knew this when I was growing up.

Love,

Dada