I smile, "why thank you" I say. I mean it too.
There is some kind of freedom that comes with letting your freak flag fly. I see that being "normal" or "average" and "fitting in" is really just a facade. No one living their authentic self will fit into the normal flow of society.
For example, my cousin is a girly-girl. Across the board. She screeches when things startle her. Giggles and can be flirtatious as a habit. She takes time to get ready to go out. Her feelings get hurt really easily and she will probably cry. She is her authentic self at all times, and embraces what I find amusing with a grin and a "you makin fun of me?". Hand on her hip, sparkling eyes and all, she gets that guy to put the car she's thinking of buying for her son up on the hoist, no charge! It's amazing to watch.
When she's upset, things go crash bang boom, and she warns me, "I'm in a foul mood". I snicker a bit, because she's all flustered and bothered. It makes her face glow and her hair frames her face in such a pretty way. The kitchen light gives her a little halo, and I think to myself, so pretty when she's pissy. Within a second, she's laughing again and wrinkles her nose at me. Let your freak flag fly!
My sister comes to mind. She is a storm in a teacup. Loud, boisterous, full of life and energy. She can go from zero to one hundred in two seconds flat. You never have to wonder what is on her mind. She laughs hard, cries hard and lives all up in your face. There is no adventure she will not face and no rules she will not break to get what she wants when she wants it. Yet her softness and sensitivity is just there under the surface. Her need to be accepted and loved, and her fears of not being good enough are palpable. She is as real as they come, and doesn't even know it half the time.
Let your freak flag fly!
I know so many, real, magical, beautiful people. The ones who shine in their awesomeness without even knowing it. The ones who hide in their insecurities, and don't realize they are seen. The ones who sing when they think no one can hear them. The ones who do the kindest things when they think no one is looking. The ones who make an effort to get you laughing.
I call this the chicken dance. Have you ever been at a party, and someone starts the chicken dance. Others think they look so goofy, but can't help themselves. Soon you have a room full of people flapping their arms and kicking their feet. Those who don't join in can't help but laugh...not AT those doing it, but with a pure joy of watching the spectacle. In those few minutes, everyone is connected in this crazy, silly show of unadulterated joy.
My chicken dance is not at all girly. I take two minutes to brush my hair and throw on somewhat matching clothes to hit the Hamptons. I don't think it much matters. I figure there is not much purpose to flirtation, and can't really pull it off with a straight face any way. I relate to people in a genuine, comical way. The more I embrace my freak flag, the more I realize I have a magic all my own. I don't mind being mistaken for a lesbian. I take cues from my sister and tell buddy at the bar if he's not careful I will rub my gay on him. While I'm holding up a table, watching others dance and grind on the floor, I find myself laughing. Not at, but from the pure joy of being there. When I finally decide to get on the floor, I find my own space and bust a move with pure abandon.
Let your freak flag fly!
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