On Awkwardness

I will always be an awkward child at heart.  There was a golden window in childhood where I didn't know that I was.  I thought I was confident and outgoing and cutting edge.  But, as it turns out, when you go to an itty bitty church school in the rural outskirts of New Mexico where your class size is, um, 8.... your perceptions of your social abilities can be a tad bit skewed.  So I soon found myself at a "large" high school (class size 84!!!) where wearing a unique array of thrift store garb was not considered cutting edge so much as weird, and where being a star Bible Quizzer (that's right ya'll!) wasn't as much of a bragging right as I might have hoped. And there I learned the ugly truth. My older brother (who has never suffered from the plight of the awkward) tried the best he could.  His interventions ranged from subtle (brand name clothes left on my bed) to overt ("you're not actually going to wear that are you??") 

It took me about two years to finally adapt to this new social setting.  Slowly I learned to dress from the right stores. Figured out that the tightly combed back hair in a straight forward bun wasn't the way to roll in high school (weird, right?).  Transitioned my extra curriculars from memorizing large sections of the Bible to running track.  And finally, by my senior year, I reached the pinnacle of social success. The most popular boy in my class proclaimed me "actually pretty cool".  Doesn't get better than that, folks.

I wish I could say that my awkward tendencies disappeared at that point. But dodge them as I might, they always sneak up on me.  Just when I start to think I've outgrown it, left those knobby kneed days behind me, something happens that reminds me no matter where you go or how many years or kids you tag on, you're always you. Profound, I know.

In some ways, I'm thankful for my awkward years.  Maybe if I had been as cool as I wished when I wished it I would have gone on more dates.  And I'd probably have more baggage.  Maybe I would have gained a better fashion sense instead of wisdom.  Maybe I wouldn't have married my best friend who also spent some time acquainted with awkwardness.   I'm not sure how these tag along tendencies benefit me now, but I know that often times things that seem like a handicap can turn out being a grace.  Because where we are strong we are often proud, whereas our weaknesses teach us humility. And compassion.