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Awkward is Alright

Growing Up

By Daniel TrussellPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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A little story about being a late bloomer

Today I’m a pretty difficult person to figure out. Hell, I’m working on understanding my “brand” daily. Over the past 10 years, my jobs have scattered as dust in a desert, as have my passions. Few have any correlation, but it’s all been a journey away from being defined by my peers and grabbing those reigns myself. From the time I was born, it was clear I was different. I loved wandering the woods, picking up critters, and received the nickname “bug” after refusing to refrain from picking up spiders in a Mississippi Swamp. I wowed teachers with my voice at age 7, a time when I had perfect pitch, and I walked with my head held high. My teeth were so wacky, I was the first of my class to get braces in 2nd grade, and even that drew my shoulders back a bit. You could say I felt like a king of elementary school. I was cool. I’d go on to become quite the athlete, friend to all, and wearing a Livestrong bracelet and Phiten necklace (ensured perfect balance), tube socks, and smedium shirts, I’d start dating a 6th grader in 4th. Standing 6 inches shorter and just a few weight classes under, my charisma could not be shaken. Her friends and sister would pass me notes in the hallway, and we’d rarely talk in person. The parents couldn’t know, so we’d secretly talk on the home phone, and I’d sneak over to the neighbor’s house to, awkwardly, pick up love packages for holidays (Santa claus build-a-bears and one lb Hershey bars). Thirteen years later, common law must apply, cause we never broke things off. Exiting Elementary school, you could say things seemed to be on the rise. Middle school was supposed to be grand, sports were only ramping up, and this summer was poised for grandeur. My, was I in for a rude awakening. Braces would become uncool, growth spirts would be delayed, the singing voice would be marred by upper-classmen bullies, and I could not have been less prepared. The future Eagle scout motto I’d embody, be prepared, was not in the mental wheelhouse, and the vehicle driving my life began to break down. I’d been passed up on the sports field, my friends were hanging with girls while I was searching for critters in the creek, I gave up singing and started speaking in a deeper, forced, voice, and I used sharpie to try and create armpit hair (until I got called out for it). I rocked one hell of a bowl cut, and did erroneous things to gain attention: nearly got kicked out of summer camp for bringing cigars I'd found walking around my neighborhood and cut my own hair in the locker room to avoid in school suspension. I was the laughing stock of the whole school, and I’d join them in banter. My insecurity blanket was up, but I was hiding behind it. The world couldn't know I was hurting. I’d get my youth pastor to pick me up on CrossFit days to avoid the potential bullying if had to take a shower with my 15-year-old, still prepubescent body. It’s tough when your balls don’t drop till your 17. I’d given up on pursuing music or becoming a professional athlete. I found little joy from anything. I’d let other people define what made me “cool.” Instead of walking with the head high, picking up chicks with braces, singing at the top of my lungs because it made me feel good, walking up to swing a baseball bat knowing I’d hit the ball (dad always told me to keep a loose booty), and picking up critters to continue with Steve Irwin aspirations, I’d fallen victim to the cultural norm storm. The fact that I was different had not changed, but now I was just entertaining for it, rather than accepting raw form Daniel. I ended my sophomore year of high school alone and totally unsure of who I was. Just as summer approached, I was just getting curious with fitness for the first time. Sitting at a buck twelve, bench pressing all of 70 pounds, I got under a squat rack for the first time. Lineman from the football team were set up on a rack with 3 plates on each side, making the total weight 315 lbs. For some reason, I saw it a good idea to give it a shot. Five spotters, scared I’d collapse under the load, surrounded me as I stepped under the bar. I politely asked them to provide no assistance, and proceeded to inhale deeply as the hips sank down. To everyone’s amazement, no assistance was needed as I exhaled up from parallel. Endorphins pulsed through me, my mind was stupefied for the first time in years.. From where did this strength come from, I asked myself. Apparently, my scrawny little body did have some fight after all, and I left from the gym different that day. I now know that true strength in life come from the mind, not the body, but this moment provided a powerful Segway into that mentality I embody today. The next week I would be told I couldn’t come over to some “friends” house because my presence would be embarrassing, and I would call my best friend to have his butt answer on a Bluetooth call. I listened to my name belittled to the point of hilarity. To be frank, I was heartbroken, but I could not be more thankful for this page of my story. I elected to upend my life in search for true friends, who embrace me for who I am at the core. After a transfer of schools, lonely experience in college, and a big move out west, I’m thriving again. I’ve gone on to love soo much more fully, and life smiles back at me in return. I got back into singing, started dancing hard whenever music turns on. Journals are now being filled about life reflections, and I’m totally okay with not fitting in. Life’s thrown me more curveballs at 25 that I ever bargained for, but that’s why I learned the game of baseball, not to be a professional. I’ve picked people up in the darkest of times and watched happiness switches turn on. I’ve fly fish guided, hated it, ski instructed, loved it, guided on the Appalacian trail, became a story teller, used that to become a poet, write children’s books, and become a yoga instructor to expand my mind to continue meeting life’s storms. My health’s taken a shit, but I’ll figure it out. It’s still hard for me to trust friend’s these days, but I’ll still try my dardest to make people feel love every day. There are soo many more steps to be taken, and I know the miles will be tough. Sometimes the bad weather must come to remind us of the good times past and to come. No weight you hold over your mind can ever be too great if you remain true to yourself, just as the greatest storm can produce the most beautiful rainbow. It's silly to me how this all started with iron weight on my back, baby pit hairs finally finding their way to my armpits and other undesirable places. It just goes to show the silliness of what we yearn for in life and the true beauty of the awkwardness when we embrace it. Storms are good. Bring em on. I only ask for a rainbow at the close. I feel the leprechaun stands at the end to show us that we are gold. That's more precious than some metal you can hold. I’m a misfit, you might be too; smile about it; be original .

humanity
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