You’re like everyone else.

“You were right, you’re just like every other guy.”

I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I believe that around twelve years old, I noticed myself doing certain things that were “little lies” of who I wanted others to perceive me as. Or for the sake of the matter, I was becoming someone that I truly was not.

This realization shook me to my utter bones. I hated myself for trying to fit in, for becoming someone, I perhaps really wasn’t. And I knew that this wasn’t me because I always felt a certain pressure in doing certain things. A pressure that lingered on and made me feel different. A different, that wasn’t me.

This is quite interesting to write about, because it feels like I’m contradicting myself. Though I was under pressure or felt compelled to act a certain way, it was still me. I was the one making the choices. If it wasn’t truly me, then I wouldn’t be doing what I was doing. And yet, I was doing what I was doing, so it was me. Though it was a superficial me. (This may sound nonsensical to you, because it definitely sounds that way to me.)

A side-affect of being superficial, is that your eye is a lot more keen to notice and distinguish those who are superficial and who are authentic.

“It takes one to know one.”

And since I used to be one, I could easily identify others that were trying to be someone they’re not.

As mentioned, this realization changed me. I stopped trying to “fit in.” I stopped trying to be someone I’m not, for the sake of others. I guess I just embraced who I am. Obviously, at that age I still wasn’t sure who I even was, but at least I knew a little of who I’m not.

I wasn’t afraid of being perceived less masculine when I was interested in books, art, design, culture, movies, and so on. I didn’t care what people thought about me.

Sorta, anyways…

I’ve always loved the retro era. I don’t even know if that’s a legit era or not. But think of 60’s and 70’s. I loved the design of that time, the classy cars, the fashion, and etc. But I was always afraid that if I started wearing retro, vintage sweaters, then everyone would think that I was trying to fit in to yet another social label, “hipster.” Therefore, for the sake of not letting other people think that I was superficial, I stayed away from certain things.

Sadly, I was being superficial by not letting other people think that I was superficial. Ha, oh the paradox.

Different, basically means, not alike when compared to others. Theoretically, we’re all different when compared to someone who is not like us.

But when I talk about being “different,” I’m going a little deeper and talking more so about inner characteristics of who we are. This type of characteristic is sort of linked to being rebellious.

Now when I talk about being rebellious, I don’t mean being disobedient, or warring. Rather, I’m talking more so about being alienated, restless, bored of the typical, tired of the average, and so on.

A person cannot not be rebellious. And a person can’t make him or herself be rebellious. It’s either you are, or you’re not. And that is determined by genetics and perhaps, a bit of our environment in which we evolved in.

That’s all to say that I am a rebellious person. I always pushed the boundaries, tested the limits, looked into that which wasn’t really looked into. I always looked for something different, something exceptional, something distant. Be it art, music, design, and etc. I always liked that which was different.

And though I was different by being rebellious in the sense of looking for something else, I always thought myself to be like everyone else. I mean, I also have struggles, problems, and a shitload of issues.

Being a social person (according to my standards), I’ve had the chance to meet a lot of interesting people. And I’ve gotten a lot of comments (or compliments) on being creative, being knowledgeable on culture, being an old soul, and etc.

Basically, I was different according to others, by being myself, by being the authentic me. And I quite liked it.

* * *

Yet, we’re all different in one way or another. Though I may be a bit more creative, someone else may be a bit more analytical, and another person might be a bit more naive than others.

Sometimes we need to get over ourselves and who we are and understand that we’re no more (or less) special than others. Though we’re all different, we’re all the same. Perhaps we’re even all the same in the fact that we’re all different, but then that’s just a play of words.