You Can File Me Under Miscellaneous

Miscellaneous:

2. Having a variety of characteristics, abilities, or appearances.
3. Concerned with diverse subjects or aspects.

My Mum used this word (and the phrase "mixed bag") to describe me (in a nice way) today, when I once again regaled her with my struggle to be myself. When I try to be who people expect me to be I only end up feeling frustrated and unfulfilled, like I've cheated myself.

It's like looking at a cube and only seeing a square. Presenting the same side every time only reinforces the idea that that is who I am. I am a certain way. Inextricably stuffed into my allotted box.

She gave the pertinent example of the time in form one when I declined the option of even signing up for "Force 5" (an outdoor adventure elective). Force 5 would've been good for me: camping, kayaking, orienteering, rock climbing, abseiling, going bush etc. All things I was interested in and came to enjoy when I finally experienced them years later.

Instead I chose horticulture (because that sounded good too) only to find that no one wanted to be in that class as it was their last choice. After all this was what was expected of me. No one expected me to exult in the thrill of the great outdoors, to heed he call of the wild, but to paint rubbish bins and tend my dowdy tomato vine. They only saw me as a mouse to torment, who would rather read, knit, dance under the trees by myself or hide in the toilets. Surely, such a person is incapable of being adventurous.

To be fair, with a maximum of only two from each class, the odds were not in my favour, but the point is: I didn't even try because I was worried about what people might think.

And the truth? I thrive on the outdoors. I'd take trails and mountains and beaches and rivers and bush and campfires over screen-sucking and paper shuffling any day.

I have a mind for science but art is in my fingers. Sometimes I carefully place each stroke of paint, others I squelch my hands into the clay. I admire the gentle breeze for presenting my nostrils with a subtle fragrance and relish the wild winds of a perfect roller coaster. I like to shoot the breeze but only in a small group. I bake dainty cakes and cook a mean curry (seriously, it takes no prisoners, slaughtering all but the hardiest of stomachs). I've dabbled in ventriloquism, memorised books, played the tambourine. I dress up and put on silly voices. I take long walks as far as my legs will carry me and sometimes I just lie on the grass and watch the clouds or name the stars.

But usually you do not ask so usually I do not tell.