Woah – today has been quite a full-on day. Nothing parituclarly exciting has happened, I suppose – it’s just been nonstop from 7am until now, at 10pm, when I’m sitting down to write to you.
Some of my readers may be aware of my views on social concepts, including being cool, popular, stereotypical and so forth. Specifically focussing on the popularity element, I’ve stated several times how I feel that it’s not important to be regarded as popular, so long as you’re comfortable with your friends and how you are regarded. My view on this has not changed – not in the slightest -, but today has been one of those days where I’ve just felt almost a little like I’m betraying myself.
It’s probably easy to tell that i’m not popular; not in the slightest. I don’t have that kind of personality, and i’m just fine with that – in fact, I quite like it that way. Attention isn’t drawn to me, no one really minds what I say or do, and I get to hide in the metaphorical shadows; it’s a perfect compromise. I’ve never wished to be popular; it’s just not something that I think I’d appreciate, want or need in my life, and so I am happy leading my life with fewer, but closer, friends.
Today, however, several things happened – little things – that made me, in myself, feel popular. The main one, I guess, happened this eveing. I’m going to france on a school holiday next month [I’ll have to srite up and schedule some posts for you all, won’t I?!], and there was a meeting regarding the week-long trip this evening. These meetings always make me uncomfortable, because I’m not the kind of person who walks up to people I know at the meeting and starts a conversation: I’d honestly rather just hide at the back and slip out the minute the event is over. As usual, I took my place at the back, head bowed and eyes closed, silently praying that no one would notice me: it’s easier that way.
I should mention here that I went on this same trip last year, and really enjoyed it, hence why I’m going again. It’s a mixed trip: both the local boys school and the local girls school go together, as a joint trip.
Four people – one from school, one close friend from the girls school and two others fro m last year – recognised me and took the time to come and say hello and sat with me. When I’d entered that room, all I had wanted was to be left alone; it’s less stressful, quieter and makes my social skills – or rather lack of – less obvious. By the end of the meeting, however, I was laughing so much about old memories of last year’s trip, planning things for this year’s trip and genuinely having such a good time. We did that typical thing which you always see in movies: you know where a teacher is on stage at the front giving a speech, and then they cut to the back where there’s a group of teenagers having a really gossip-based chat. Yeah, that was us – and I’m not going to lie: it was amazing.
This made me, for once, feel popular, and although I know it’s not necessary, and so long as you’re happy with yourself, you’re fine as you are, it felt amazing to have someone to aalk to. No, it felt amazing that people wanted to talk to me, that they wanted to approach me and talk and laugh. To my surprise, that felt incredible.
Sorry for the rather self-centred post today: I just can’t get over how brilliant it felt to kind of accept that people want to talk to me sometimes.