If we’re being honest, it’s more useful to fit in.
So many of us spend years shrinking ourselves, bartering with the mainstream to trade our authenticity for acceptance, looking for ways to be seen as part of a whole rather than as an individual existing on the outskirts of what’s trendy, predictable, or safe — for this reason. It’s easier and more comfortable to lean into the herd and the hive than to off-road alone into the uncertainty of discovering who you truly are, and risk becoming less relatable and recognizable to the masses in the process. But the gift of settling into your truth is worth all the nuanced navigating.
I never read the Harry Potter books in full (as a kid I found the series a little bloated and too disconnected from real life, and I was also in a preteen phase at the time of searching for answers rather than for an escape). I did, however, watch the movies, and I always thought the invisibility cloak was an interesting totem in the story because it was a double-edged sword. (Plus, I’ve always loved the concept of mirrored energy #l00kingglassw0rld). At once, the invisibility cloak rendered the wearer unseen, but it also doubled as protective armor. And I understood, even as a child, that going unnoticed is the best way to move efficiently and freely in the direction you choose.
We are talking about a cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it."
— Xenophilius Lovegood describing the Cloak of Invisibility
I view uniqueness as a cloak of invisibility. Oftentimes, the more “normal” we are the more predictable and legible we become, and though I don’t go out of my way to be enigmatic, I think it’s more appealing to be an individual who leaves an impression than to be a flat ensemble character, so concerned with being cool that you flirt with being no one.
We just had a full moon in Aquarius (which I discuss in the attached voice memo) that jolted the winds into still reflection (a fixed air sign will do that), and it has brought up so many lessons surrounding community and charting your own individual path. What role do you play in a group? Who are you, truly, when you’re alone? Do the way your friendships operate accurately represent what you require and deserve? How fully do you show up for others — and for yourself? Are you proud of your individuality, or troubled by it?
Stepping into one’s power more fully comes with the inevitable opportunity for more feedback / judgment from those on the outside looking in. Are you confident enough to stand boldly in the truth of who you are, even when it’s not convenient? Or worse….when who you are is not considered “cool?” It’s a shame our understanding of being “alternative” or “counterculture” has been bastardized into (mis)understanding the expression of that difference as a performance, and not an honest mode of movement for those walking to the beat of their own drum — or who are uninterested in playing roles that don’t serve them.
I’ll be the first to admit I am still working on quieting the noise of outside perception, and simultaneously still working on embracing the fact that it’s perfectly fine to have thin skin sometimes. I used to try to perform toughness in a way that felt dishonest, until I realized that it is not weak to be sensitive; sensitivity is a gift. And in a world that rewards aloofness, competition, algorithmic sameness — all brought on by a noxious mix of capitalism and tech-era detachment — being someone who feels is someone who has more useful (emotional) data than most.
I’m almost embarrassed to admit how much time I’ve spent sulking over the fact that I’m awkward with a corny sense of humor, that I feel like such an analog girl in a digital world, that I can’t capture current style trends in my own wardrobe, and that I’ve never felt like I was a considered part of a fixed friend group. But like I always say, I CAN ONLY BE ME™! It’s easy to feel rejected / outcasted / overlooked / ignored when you’re alternative / weird / unique / complex in a way that’s not easily defined…it can leave you feeling aimless in terms of where you fit in and where you’re supposed to land. Transmuting this placelessness into an island of your own special confidence is life-changing.
Quirkiness is a hedge of protection when channeled properly. Being misunderstood and underestimated requires deep faith that the people who do see you and feel seen by you will reveal themselves, which will enable you to establish a community rooted in an essence of honesty unto yourselves. The root of Aquarius energy, in my mind, is the tension between cherishing friendship while being unwilling to change oneself just to maintain it. Aquarians are able to detach quite easily once they identify a connection is no longer serving them, and though my sensitive, self-sacrificing Virgo heart has struggled on the receiving end of that attitude in the past, it’s a trait I really admire. This recent full moon in Aquarius caused me to realize that being an individual can be lonely in the present, but the reward comes later once you see that the things you were focusing on or interested in were actually ahead of their time.
*sidebar / tangent commercial break below*
I am forever inspired by Zora Neale Hurston (1891-1960), a Black woman, a writer, an anthropologist, an ethnographer, an archivist, a seer, a feeler, a lone wolf. Beyond the brilliant content of her books, I have always felt a strange imagined kinship with her as a human being; she was a wanderer that asked questions and recorded stories, who immersed herself in different communities in an effort understand her culture more deeply, and documented these experiences to ensure that her people were not only seen, but understood. The beauty of ethnographic work is that it’s as much about narrative as it is about language…our vernacular is an armor, unable to be fully understood by white America, making it a code to protect us from being too decipherable and therefore, vulnerable.
*okay, back to the main topic*
But I digress. The point is this: we speak in code, we wear invisibility cloaks, because they are subtle forms of protection….from evil eyes, from monitoring spirits, from judgment rooted in an allergy to difference. In our celebrity-soaked, social media-forward culture, it’s easy to desire being seen, but it’s just as easy to misunderstand being seen for being felt. If I had to choose, I prefer the latter.
Of course, there is a fine line between keeping your magic discreet and actually hiding your light. What I’ve learned is that it’s important to know yourself well enough to know where your personal line gets drawn between being visible and staying shrouded until you’re fully ready to blossom, or can trust that your blossoming will be well received. But in the meantime, don’t be discouraged by taking the scenic route in the shadows….slow and steady wins the race, and stars shine more brightly in the darkness of night.
The invisibility that comes with being a unique person allows you to work safely in silence. An existence tucked away in the proverbial shadows is a gift that allows you to hone your craft, sharpen your sword, perfect and improve yourself without the pressure of eyes and chatter forcing you to consider what’s expected of you based on a formula they’ve written for you. I’ve learned to see the value in not being acknowledged, or chosen, or celebrated, or understood. Being difficult to neatly define is the reward for staying true to yourself — through different phases and eras and relationships and environments and evolutions. Maybe that means you confuse people or make them uncomfortable, because you’re too weird or awkward or obnoxious to be considered part of the in-crowd, but existing in the in-crowd is not everyone’s path. Some people’s calling resides on the margins, or is delayed for a future society that will be better equipped to receive it.
One of the biggest personal wins I’ve had on my journey as a recovering people pleaser is that I’ve become more comfortable being disliked…but the better way to put it is that I’ve become more comfortable not being thought of at all: an afterthought, a footnote, a second choice, a plus one. (I want to take a moment here to acknowledge that I can be self-critical and pessimistic to the point I overemphasize the negative, but I do realize there are plenty of people who consider and love me and think of me highly in all my strangeness, and I am grateful.) This was a long-time wound I had to work through — feeling frustrated that my lack of clout rendered me invisible to those who play those games, or that my lack of interest in being one of those girls rendered me runner up to those who looked and acted the part. Anyway, the Trojan horse was a successful secret weapon precisely because its genius was a surprise.
Don’t be afraid of being different. Don’t allow the feeling of being unseen morph into feelings of exclusion or rejection, but embrace invisibility as something you can transmute into working for your highest self.
What’s understood ain’t gotta be explained.
When you set boundaries and/or ask the universe to remove whatever and whomever is not for you…this question arises, lol.
A moment of silence for this INSANE 1970s pulp sci-fi book I picked up on the afternoon of the full moon. I haven’t historically been into science fiction as a genre, but as AI becomes increasingly important in the present-day story of humanity, I’ve been thinking it’s time for me to start reading more about cyborgs and the cosmos. Plus, the truth is stranger than fiction…so this can’t be too disturbing, right? What’s weirder than being alive in 2024?! ANYWAY! I obviously bought this because the cover art is sick and it was only $3. But I also appreciate how challenged I am by the question it poses, and am still working out my answer. What’s yours?
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