Different is Beautiful

"I don’t know maybe I’m different. Maybe I’m too different that it makes them uncomfortable." -Kay

I was awaken this morning with a phone call from my friend Kay who is on vacation with another mutual friend and her family. Instead of saying that she is having a good time and having new experiences she tells me that she’s been stuck our friend’s cousin tiny two bedroom apartment who doesn’t want them there.
So much for good hospitality, she continues on to say that not only that the cousin is bad-mannered but the entire family is making her feel isolated due to them being just as un-welcoming. I feel awful for my friend it’s bad enough that we work hard and endure the stress from our jobs to have enough money to even take a vacation but to be made isolated on that vacation is beyond ridiculous. I try to be encouraging and give some advice and some good tourist spots especially since I have lived in the city that they are visiting.
Befor we ended the conversation she says, "I don’t know maybe I’m different. Maybe I’m too different that it makes them uncomfortable."
It got me to thinking about being different.
I remember when I left for college that my first I wanted to drop out and come home to the safe haven of my family because I didn’t feel accepted by anyone. I didn’t have that many friends and I wasn’t having the fun "college" experience that so many people said that I was going to have. In fact it turned out to be the complete opposite happened.
My opinions and views about issues were different than everyone I was around. Most of them have never been outside of their hometown but for me l never really had a hometown. My dad was in the Army so moving for me was normal adjusting to change was normal.
I felt as if there no agree to disagree in many cases I was often called names and made fun of for what I thought about most issues or just the way I viewed life in general. It caused me to retreat I barely spoke to anyone I stop participating in class and I was finding it increasingly hard to get out of bed.
I wanted to walk away from it all and go home. I found myself thinking that college wasn’t for me that I should go just get a "regular" job. Something inside of me just wouldn’t let me quit I’m not sure if it was my need to finish what I start or my pride just wouldn’t let me run away. I like to believe that somehow it was the combination of both that kept me going but I completed my first year and the following three years after that. I eventually found people that I could gel with I’m not going to say that it was easy street but it was worth sticking out.