What's Wrong With Misfits?

We're a couple of misfits
We're a couple of misfits
What's the matter with misfits
That's where we fit in!
We're not daffy and dilly
Don't go 'round willy nilly
Seems to us kinda silly
That we don't fit in.
We may be different from the rest
Who decides the test
Of what is really best?

One of my favorite holiday cartoons, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, was on last night.  I love that cartoon.  Mostly because I feel a kinship with Hermie, who wants to be a dentist instead of an elf, and with Rudolph, who was picked on for being different.

I have always been sort of a misfit.  I know I never quite felt like I fit in.  As an adult, I'm not entirely sure most days that I fit in now either.  Luckily, being odd and un-ordinary seems to be ok these days so I am not so ostracized.

I grew up in a very small town, as I've mentioned before.  I lived in a mobile home.  A single-wide mobile home.  My parents were uneducated laborers who did their best to keep us safe, fed and healthy.  My childhood, while not idyllic, was not bad.  Mostly because I never really noticed what we didn't have until I grew older.

However, I did notice that I didn't always fit in.  

For one, I was the token fat kid in a school filled with non-fat kids.  I think there was one other fat kid, but he was a bully and being a bully trumped being fat.  At school, I was bookish, shy, and introverted.  I was the kid who wanted to make my teachers proud and happy.  I always wanted to play with the other kids but never really knew how to initiate it so I'd do odd things or funny things to get attention.  I was also fairly competitive and would get good grades to get attention.  At recess, I was most likely to be found pounding chalkboard erasers on the side of the building or walking along the chain link fence by the playground, daydreaming about a better life, a different life. 

At home, I was less shy.  Kind of bipolar, actually.  I could be the perfect daughter one minute, then the bossy bad seed the next.  I could fight with my brother like the best of them.  I was kind of tom-boyish and stubborn.  I was picky and sometimes grouchy.  I spent a lot of time alternating between being very active outside to being almost vegetative inside.  I watched a lot of television.  I read a lot of books.  I listened to a lot of music.  Thanks to this, I have a wealth of useless information that only seems to come in handy while playing trivia games.  

I didn't have many friends until middle school.  All of my report cards in grade school had comments that I needed to come out of my shell and be more social.

So, when I watch Rudolph, I get lost in all of the social messages that I sometimes forget it's just a timeless children's cartoon about the magic of Christmas. 

I focus on Santa's eating disorder (refusing to eat) and Mrs. Claus's enabling (Eat, papa, Eat.  No body wants a skinny Santa.)  I empathize with the elf who is doing a job he doesn't like because he doesn't feel he has any other options, so when he's not being heard, he does a drastic move and runs away.  I don't know how many times I've gotten into my car and considered just driving until I'm totally lost some place (although, now that I have a Garmin, that might not be possible) and then start over.  

I get all warm and mushy when the little girl reindeer looks past Rudolph's red nose and develops feelings for him based on things other than appearance.  I feel sorry for Rudolph for not being allowed to hang out with all of the other reindeer because he has a red nose.  I feel sorry that his own parents are ashamed of him and try to make him be someone he isn't.  I feel envy for Yukon Cornelius who gets to travel the world and do whatever he wants.  But, in the end, Rudolph saves the day and everything works out.

In my life, I'm stuck some place between the North Pole and the land of misfit toys.  I haven't quite fully come to terms with my individuality and I still yearn to be a little more normal -- or at least be accepted and loved by someone who looks past the not-so-normal. 

I'm looking for my Yukon Cornelius, I guess, to help me find my way.  

Metaphorically.  The guy from the cartoon kind of creeped me out.

There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Believe in your dreams
Come what may.

There's always tomorrow,
With so much to do,
And so little time in a day.

We all pretend
The rainbow has an end
And you'll be there my friend someday.