Square peg in a round hole?

In my time I've been called everything from 'a bit quirky' to 'bat shit crazy'.
As a little kid, I didn't care about being so different, I didn't care about having the latest things, or fitting in; I cared about  not being hungry or cold. 
I loved my hand knitted jumpers made by mum from unraveled yarn, and I loved my thrifty clothes because they were unique. One winter I actually had a fur coat. At primary school. 
When I hit my teens, I was aware that I looked different. Me, not just my clothing. 
I had frizzy, wiry hair and terribly spotty skin. And fixed braces on my teeth. Top and bottom.  
Instead of regulation school uniform I wore ex-naval wrens blouse and skirt from the surplus store because that was what we could afford. They were the same colour as my school's uniform, just I had epaulettes! 
My uniform fitted and was very hard-wearing, and we could get proper value for money: I had five blouses for the price of just one in the school uniform shop.

When I wanted to get confirmed at the church where I sang in the choir, there were weeks of preparation classes. My mum crocheted me a dress for my confirmation. It took her hours. I was 13. With frizzy hair. I looked like one of those knitted poodle wine bottle covers from the 70s. 
I was aware of being very different to other people, that was ok, but for the first time I was aware of this being funny to other people.

Like lots of people, I enjoyed school but had some incidents where other people just weren't very nice. At times these went on for a bit, then those people got fed up because I didn't react, and they went off and bothered someone else.
I was happy in my skin for the most part because that was who I was. 
That was me.
The way I saw it then, people are like a big buffet table:  if 
you didn't really like something about  them, then move on and choose someone you did like. You wouldn't stand in front of a plate of carrots saying how ridiculously orange they were, just because you don't like carrots; you would choose peas, or beetroot and move along your way. 

As an adult with a disability, I still feel the same.
I'm different. 
But so is everybody else.
I've had some people be quite horrible towards me rather than just moving along.  
I'll be honest: I've had more crap as an adult from other  so-called adults than I ever had as a spotty, frizzy-haired teenager with a speech impediment and crazy mis-matching clothes. 
Think about that!

Square peg in a round hole?
I'm Tracey.
And if you don't like what you see here, then move along the buffet; there's billions of other people in the world to choose from...


  1. Well said Tracey. I cannot stand any kind of bullying. As you say, just move on. X

  2. What an inspirational and thought provoking post. Thank you so much
    J x

  3. Quite right! How boring life would be if we were all the same.

  4. So have I, and I wish more people would move along...

  5. I'm Catriona and I'm pleased to know you, Tracey. In Scotland we would say " we're a' Jock Tamson's bairns ", and I truly believe that we are all unique and so must be different. Living your life as you wish and enjoying your family are great gifts-no explanation needed for those who don't understand. Catriona

  6. Well said, I've found it harder as an adult because I don't fit in and what really annoys people is I don't want to! I want to think the best, use kind words and not dress like anyone else.
    A little bit more nice would oil the wheels of the world quite nicely...so Hi Tracey I'm Nim and I like some humans and most animals :)

  7. Hi Tracey, I'm Carol. I like to be different and not follow the crowd (how dull is that). Our daughter hated the "in" crowd at school with their matching false face (thick makeup), false hair, false nails, fake tan. She still has no time for them now she's at collage.Like us she doesn't want to be sheep

  8. I just gave you a standing ovation in my nightie and bedsocks!


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