I’m afraid I may be just ever so slightly given to paranoia. A friend sent me an email this morning asking to speak with me in person, and I immediately knew it was because of the awful thing I’d done. Problem was, I couldn’t decide which awful thing that might be. I made a frenzied mental list of all the ways I’d potentially hurt, offended, or otherwise sinned against my friend, our church, and humanity in general for the past week. I don’t imagine that this type of response to a friendly email is normal, but it’s normal for me.
The thing is, I’m kind of a black sheep. Most of the time I don’t care– you might even say I embrace it– but sometimes, like today, it really gets to me, and that’s where the paranoia comes from: No matter where I go, I don’t quite fit in. I never have.
When I was a little kid, I used wily seven-year-old subversion to steal extra time in the writing corner, crafting story upon fanciful story while the other kids went about their regular classroom activities exactly like they were supposed to.
When I was a teenager, I loved to perform in my high school’s dance group, but when all the other girls changed back into their polo shirts and khaki mini-skirts, I was the freak– literally, if you remember your mid-90′s social terms– in the vintage tank tops and plaid old-man pants.
When I was in college, what felt like the entirety of my co-ed dorm rushed their sororities and fraternities while I smoked a clove cigarette, went to a ska concert with my lesbian pal, and wrote a scathing essay about the purchasing of friendship.
When I was a much too young mother, I tried play centers, MOPS groups, and the PTA and felt older women’s eyes brand my age on me like a scarlet letter.
And now even at a truly Christ-centered church filled with loving, accepting people, I sometimes still feel like the black sheep. I attend without my non-Christian husband– which makes me different from the vast majority in the first place– and I also bring my five children alone, which makes me look like the village whore. When I finally suck it up and go to a women’s Bible study, I am prone to getting feisty and foul-mouthed. And then, I write about it all.
So when a friend wants to meet up and talk, I get worried, because no one likes a black sheep. Except that’s not entirely true.
I went to the Bible this morning, mid freak-out, to see what Jesus had to say about it, and I read the Parable of the Lost Sheep. And when I got to the part where the man finds his one lost sheep out of the 100, I cried. Because Jesus said he laid it across his shoulders and rejoiced. He didn’t kick it and say, “Get back with the herd, you reject!” He picked it up, he carried it– he held it close to his own body– and he celebrated.
So I guess I’ll take being the black sheep, even if it means not fitting in. Because it means I get carried with joy.
Have you ever felt like the black sheep? Where have you found people or places that you fit in?
I have never felt like I completely fit in anywhere, either. My church is the closest place, but I even have my moments there. I’m always overthining things and then worrying that no one really likes me (they’re all just pretending because they have nothing better to do, right?). Yeah, I’m given to paranoia, too, just like my favorite writer!
Thanks for the reminder that there is at least one who always accepts me for who I am, mainly because He created me to be exactly who I am!
Oh, and BTW, your friend probably just wants to ask you a favor and thought doing so on email would be tacky, or something along those lines. Easy for me to say, not being the one who received the email. If I had, I’d have the exact same reaction you did! Sigh.
I suffer from the paranoia too! I am quiet and an observer so I take a while to really warm up. I like to see where I am going to fit. I too was a young mom and I always felt like the older moms sort of looked me up and down. Recently, I had a mom actually ask me if my oldest son lived with us. She just assumed because there is a large age gap between the two older boys, that he must not be my husband’s son. That was like a slap in the face because I’d never even contemplated that others would think someone else was his father. I used to go to church alone too. I can so relate to so much of your post.
Blessings,
Mel
Please feel free to stop by: Trailing After God
Oh and one last thought
When folks find out you battle depression and have had to be hospitalized for suicidal thoughts, they tend to cock their head to the side and look at you like you might be a 3 headed alien monster… No wonder folks who are depressed are so lonely. No one wants to talk about it or deal with it.
Have you seen my friend Alise’s “Not Alone” series on depression? I contributed to it a while ago, as have many others, and I think the whole series is an incredible gift for all of us who need to know we’re not alone. Here’s my piece, and you can get to the others from here too: http://www.bigmama247.com/2010/12/you-are-not-alone.html
and there you have it.
get out of my head, tamara.
I love you more every day! I was also the girl smoking cloves wearing clothes stolen from a closet circa 1976 and was found more often than not backstage at the local theater debating all things pretentious and enjoying all things artistic.
Being the black sheep gives a unique perspective and enables us to better empathize with those who have been hurt or upset or sometimes feel cast out.
I hope whatever it is works out alright!!
All my life I’ve felt like the black sheep – in my family, with my friends. I felt truly accepted once, but haven’t felt that way in a long time. What you wrote hit close to home for me as I do the same thing when I get an email like that – start thinking about what I might have done to offend. It’s amazing that I’m not alone with this! As always, another great writing piece!
I hope you’ll feel accepted again, my friend.
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I knew from the title that I should wait to read this until I’d slept, but it was too good to put off. So now I’m a big sloppy mess.
I definitely understand and your experience pretty much sums up my own with freakish similarity. Was listening to my bestie talk about a new home group he was in and it made me sad because I miss that terribly, but don’t know where I’d go. I was able to adjust to going to church with the kids alone pretty easily because even though it’s lonely, it’s still fairly anonymous down front. But the thought of going to a home group alone — I don’t think I could do that. Or if I did, I’d be the weepy lady who sat and cried every. single. week. and I don’t know if I have that in me.
I have a lot more to say about the whole black sheep thing, but tired is making me feel much more dark and not celebrated, so I’m just going to read this again and feel better. Love you!
See, stuff like this is the reason I started following this blog in the first place. My standard analogy is that I feel like a 2 in a room full of 7′s (dice probability, a la Settlers of Catan), and any time I am introduced to a new community I sort of start out thinking that they’re all just one mistake away from hating me (cf. coffeeclub “old” fiasco). I think the place I’ve best fit in is in class either teaching or learning, where my academic tendencies aren’t out of the ordinary, and at the museum where I work, where nerd culture is the topic du jour every day.
Thanks for the reminder that different people aren’t alone, Tamara. I hope you are internalizing that message as well. Sheep may be weird and stupid sometimes, but we sure are important to that Shepherd.
A 2 in a roomful of 7s – love that picture.
We’re all a bunch of black sheep in one way or
another, I think. I’ve asked myself if I’m the
only one so messed up quite a few times this week
alone.
i don’t like being treated like a reject. i love your honesty Tamara and can totally relate. it’s gr8 to hear that Jesus rejoiced & celebrated the black sheep!
Tamara – you, and each one of the readers who responded are children of the Most High Almighty God. Each individual – “black sheep” or otherwise, is a marvelous creation – created with special gifts and with perfect intention. God loves us with an extravagant love. From a beautiful song: “you are treasured, you are sacred, you are His”. Believe that, everyone. Celebrate with great joy, the gift of love and acceptance our Lord so graciously gives us, and love Him back with great abandon and with equal extravagance!
P.S. your mom loves and admires her little black sheep!
I’m a black sheep, but older than you, I’m guessing by a decade or so. I always second-guess myself, and it takes all the nerve I can muster to get myself to a ladies study…or to church for that matter (which I do every Sunday). And my writing tends to get me into trouble too, no matter how careful I am. I think I’ll be reading here in the future.
Wow, I do that exact thing when someone says “hey, can we talk?” I’m always like, “what did I do now?” I, too, feel like I don’t fit in anywhere. But I’m turning over a new leaf and trying to reach out and love people anyway, regardless of whether I fit in or not. It’s hard but worth it.
“And then I write about it all.” Laughing. so. HARD. Thank you! Here’s a long-distance hello from one black sheep to another!
Hi Tamara,
My bloggity-friend MK Tyson put up your link on FB so I thought I’d take a minute and read your post. Thanks for speaking out on how you feel. I have never quite described myself as a “black sheep”, but I do know the feeling of “not quite fitting in”. Let me just say this, I am forever grateful that God created the rainbow which encompasses every color ever made. Which gives me hope that He loves all of His sheep, white, black, chartreuse, or otherwise. Which means, to me, that us slightly askew folks are just as loved as the rest of the flock. Amen.
Steph
I often feel the same way when a church member wants to “talk.” It is usually not to tell me how much they appreciate the sermons or that they love, love, love what is going on.
Tamara, this is why you should only do one thing wrong a week, like me, and that way you always know what people want to talk to you about.
I take it the “talk” went okay?
Hasn’t happened yet.
I enjoyed this quite a bit.
I’m a black sheep. I don’t fit in with my family, people in my area, colleagues, even feel on the outskirts of the internet! I do like that I know what it’s like to be a weirdo from the inside and knowing Jesus loves me just as much as the birds of a feather flocking togethr.
I’ve been exploring this idea of identity and faith on my own blog, but allow me to say, you’re not a black sheep. You are A SHEEP. One He cares for. And the stuff other people may or may not think about you; that’s their problem. I love that you are openly and honestly who you are. If you keep being honest, which seems to be characteristic, then you will draw people to you who want that themselves. You go girl. (this is my first trip to your blog, from #coffeeclub). Nice to read more about you.
i know exactly how you feel. If friends didn’t write me back soon enough (in the age of envelopes and stamps) I thought maybe they had died. Now, that we are so open about things in email and twittering and blogging, if I get an envelope that isn’t a bill that is on business size stationery, typed, I freak out. It’s a letter from my former church, what could they want? It’s a letter from my current church…and then I open it. Oh, just to let me know that I wrote them checks this year.
One thing that I got this week, listening to Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell–if you are a herding society, you have to be fierce. Which led me to think about David felling Goliath with the sling shot. So Jesus as our shepherd is NOT “Jesus meek and mild.” It’s Jesus I’m going to fight you if you even so much as breathe near one of my precious sheep of any color or creed.
Sending cupcakes.
xo,
SL
You know where I don’t fit in? I’m a 36 year old married woman without kids. By choice. It’s the whole “no kids” that makes me a black sheep. Other women don’t really get it. Sometimes I don’t get it. I wonder why I can’t be like other females and want to be a mom.
Black sheep? Interesting.
I have always felt so different. I have never felt like I totally ‘fit in’ anywhere, including within the Christian community. The closest to having a group where I felt like I ‘fit in’ were the times I hung our with my hardcore/punk rock friends as a teenager, and within my diverse little fine arts class in college. I’m going to answer this in a blog post of my own in the near future because you, Tamera, have got me thinking. The only place where I have ever felt I totally fit in with anyone are a few transcendental moments where, for one reason or another, I felt a tangible presence of God and His Fatherly love. That experience messed me up in a good way and carries me through. Carries me through what, you might ask? Everything. Now, there are times when my my husband comes so close – with this wonderful simpatico kind of lovely friendship-passion soul-mate thing we have, but then there’s other times when he drives me nuts.
As for being a church going woman, without her husband in attendance – I think there are like nine women in our small congregation who have a similar situations. They are of various ages and backgrounds, I have found it to be quite common, and the moms of young kids bring them as well. Kudos to the women like you – who do that!
Anyway, I think I’m a first time commenter, and I like your writing.
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Just re-read this post today & enjoyed it, sounded eerily familiar.
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