(Expletive) Your Comfort Zone

We are creatures of habit.

We tend towards the familiar, the safe, the comfortable. That is an adaptive trait. In the wild, safe and familiar situations meant survival. Only now, instead of keeping us alive, comfort zones are preventing us from living.

I hate change. I despise it. I love my little bubble and the select few people I’ve allowed into it. But recently, change has been eminent, and I’ve tried desperately to fight it.

A boy I’d forever seen a future with and I recently discussed that we might not have one. A person I spent a year of my life trying to be close with disappeared. My best friend got a boyfriend, and I lost my wing-woman. I felt alone. All these familiar aspects of my life were changing. My instincts told me to stay in, stay quiet, and stay familiar.

I told my instincts to screw off.

Every time someone asked me out, I said yes. I picked up a flyer for a new sorority on campus, and joined it. I filled out an application to study abroad. I became somewhat of a yes-woman….except when my boss asked me to try our new “Cheesy Creamed Spinach,” because I do NOT mess with that stuff. I know how it’s made. Blech.

Anyways. As someone who has always dwelled more than comfortably in my comfort zone, it is both terrifying and exhilarating to be leaving it. To be trying things I’ve never tried before, and meeting people I would have never thought to speak to.

I cannot give you results of my ventures, as I am still in the throes of them. But I can tell you that, thus far, denying my instincts has been pretty wild, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.


PS: Don’t fear rejection. But more on that later.


It’s Okay To Be a Loser

I was the ugliest little fourth grader. A creepy one, too. I was awkwardly skinny and gangly, braces, unibrow, the whole deal. In fact, I was so awkward and weird, that I would sit and read books at recess because none of the other kids wanted to play with me. But this isn’t a sob story. I didn’t mind. I loved my books, the words, the character development. I was a  total dork, inside and out.


Somewhere around the beginning of fifth grade, one of the “popular” girls saw potential in my puberty, and took me into her posse. I grew out of my dorky stage physically (although my boobs never did, still waiting), and was an okay looking human being. I got along with a few of the girls, but when the ring leader left and went off to a different school, I was stuck.

Stuck with this group of people I looked like, but didn’t act like.

In high school, it was the same story. I attempted to be one of the popular kids, but I just never really fit. I was walking and talking like a swan, but I was still a duck or, rather, a dork.

But it had been instilled in my mind: girls who look a certain way are supposed to act a certain way. If you fit society’s perception of “attractive,” then there is an accompanying personality type that goes with it. And I cannot speak on the societal pressures of boys, but I’m sure it might be similar.

It continued into high school, and I tried it. I tried to be cool again. I rushed sororities my first quarter as a freshman and dropped out because it was evident once again, it just wasn’t for me. I just wasn’t a cool kid.

It’s taken me this long to realize that it’s alright. Those genetically and confidently blessed will always be the cool kids, but the world needs dorks, too. The world needs cheerleaders, but it also needs geeks. It needs bombshell blondes, but it also needs nerds hiding behind their glasses spewing out random facts.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, looks don’t matter. You are who you are. You can look like Barbie and be a total bitch, or you can look like Chewbacca and be the coolest kid on the block. Your future spouse, kids, boss, etc. aren’t going to care if you were a big deal in high school or college. In fact, most people worth having in your life won’t. Don’t be afraid to let your freak flag fly. Don’t be afraid to be a dork.

After all, they write more books and make more movies about kids like us, anyways.

DISCLAIMER: This post does not attack the cool kids, it gives an ego boost for us losers. Chill,fam.