You’re a weirdo kid.

This past weekend, I found myself alone at a tattoo shop adding ink to my already growing collection of artwork. (Plus I have a bomb dot com guy that’s been doing the last couple tattoos on me and he is the best!) Anyway, like I said, I was at a super awesome tattoo place (IV Horsemen, if any of you make it to the PC area) getting my Fall Out Boy tattoo. Cause, you know, I love them. And I had a great experience! I got my ink on the back of the leg, which if you have never had a back of the leg tat, its not terrible, just uncomfortable. It looks amazing. BTW. I figured I would share. But towards the end, one of the other artists came over and watched my guy finish up my new artwork. When he was done and I stood up the guy looked at me and said something to the degree of, “You’re a weirdo kid, you know that?” And at first, I didn’t know what to say. Usually when people call me that it’s because they find out about my obsession with serial killers, or my love for cats and unicorns. #noshame But I kinda looked at his face after and I realized he meant it as a compliment, you see he was looking at the tattoos on my arms and I have quite a few. He said, “You’re into weird stuff, I can tell I am kinda weird too.” Which, I am. I have 4 Harry Potter tattoos, one anchor, The Red Thread of Fate, a Latin quote, a huge half-sleeve of Ariel, Beauty,a bow, a music note, and an arrow.

I get asked ALL. THE. TIME. what I have and what they mean. oh, and why in the world do I have them. I get that a lot. And I wish I had a better reason than, I really like them. They mean something to me. And yeah, some of them might be a little strange. Like my Disney Princess tattoo that will look straight up ballin’ when I am 62.

But you know what, I get called strange or weird or odd at least 4 times a week. Usually from my Huzzy, but it varies. Because I am. I am a little odd. I have books filled with gruesome murders and serial killers. I prefer cats and doggies (or anything furry for that matter) over human interaction. I listen to almost non-stop Fall Out Boy (who doesn’t though! <3). I enjoy my solitude, but I also fancy being around others. I could read all day everyday with no hesitation. I cried when I was 11 and my Hogwarts letter got lost in the mail. I could go from watching a violent horror movie to a chick flick with so qualms about it.

I am  a little different but the older I grow, the more I realize that its a good thing. In a world that is so concerned with normalcy, it’s nice to be a breath of  fresh air. Because the only person that you need to work on impressing is YOU. Not your sisters, your dad, your husband, your wife, your cat (I have heard they judge pretty hard) or your boss (unless  you want that raise). Be quirky, bizarre, rare and peculiar if that is you. But never make yourself fit into others perceptions of you. You will start to lose yourself, piece by piece. And you will be unhappy, oh you will be miserable. Because you will be a unicorn trapped in a horse’s body. And soon enough, that horn that you hold up so high, will snap off and break and you will lose the most important piece of your life. Be unique. Be fearless. Be you.

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