WEIRD

by Leonie Dawson on September 29, 2011

I was squirting paint straight from the bottle
watching and delighting how it spurted and splashed
I was running up dirt mounts
and tobogganing down atop freshly painted art canvasses
I was jumping on a trampoline
so high I weed myself a little
I was laughing so loud
squealing so high
giving over to the glory of what felt good…

and I was doing all this…
this morning.

With baby on hip, chuckling away (as she does.)

And I remember:

I remember when I was a kid

and I’d do these wild rainbow things, and I’d laugh so loud, and dream big dreams.

“You’re weird”, other kids would say.

And I knew, but I didn’t want to be any different
than who I was.

Sometimes I tried to cover up.
Sometimes I tried to not be who I was.

And yet being me -

wild, dreamy, crazy dancer, being best friends with dogs, painting stars, dreaming of angels?

It’s the thing that makes me happy.

It’s the joy of my life.

It’s been a few years since I’ve heard those two words:

“You’re weird.”

I prefer to stick around others who love very much the one I am,
just as I love who they are.

 

But I want to go whisper
to the little girl in me
that every time those two words were said to me,
to

grin raucously
and say

“baby, i was born this way,
and i’ve loved every day of it since.”

I didn’t know then, but how I know now, that
Weird really means:

Wonderful
Endearing
Inspired
Radiant
Divine

To us.
Grown women, growing women
who are still loving ourselves
still chasing down dirt mounds
still laughing just because we can
or finding our way home to ourselves.

Baby we were born this way.

Meant to be wild and gorgeous and different.

Made to be the special soul we are.

Forever and ever.

amen.

We’re taking back Weird,
and it’s the best fun ever!

love,