The Life of an Outcast

I don’t know if outcasts are created or if they evolve into one.

Some people, when they walk into a room are immediately labeled as an outcast.

Now, these people aren’t the stereotypical outcast you might imagine… whatever that image is.

These people can be regular looking, average people.

People like me.

Ever since I was little, I was an outcast. I don’t even know why. I was just looked upon as one.

I would walk into a room and try to make a friend and immediately be shunned. I honestly couldn’t tell you why. I don’t walk around in fancy shoes and think I’m better than others. I don’t wear black clothes and claim devil worship. I definitely shower so I smell good. My clothes match. I’m smart. My boyfriend tells me I’m goofy but I don’t exactly throw that out there when being introduced to someone.

With all of this, I can’t tell you why I’m pushed out of the circle. I couldn’t even ask those who hate me why they feel that way.

I know, I know… screw what other people think, right?

Not exactly.

When you’re at a job and you’re looking for a promotion… it would help to not be an outcast.

I’m not asking to be popular… just accepted.

I wish I could say that it takes a while to warm up to people but… the warmth never seems to come.

So I stay in my little corner… alone because I’m pushed there.

I make an attempt every now and then to try and yet I get shoved out and pushed away.

I know that I was just talking about bullies and how everyone is declaring it. I also stated that bullies were always around, it’s just that it’s receiving attention now.

I was bullied in school. I came home crying from school every day when I was younger because the entire class – yes, the ENTIRE – class treated me so cruelly.

This carried on through junior high and high school. Though I might have been a cheerleader. I was bullied by the team. I was never accepted and thus quit something I really enjoyed doing because I was tired of being tortured.

Thinking that things would change once leaving high school, nothing really did.

In college, the campus is so big… or at least bigger than high school that it’s really hard to really fit in with anyone. The ‘friends’ that I made were not necessarily friends but rather people who where there for that time. I don’t talk to those people. I haven’t spoken to them since I left… since the very hour I left, they were all gone.

In the work force, it was just like high school. Everyone had their drama and their cliques. Again, I was sort of just pushed out of it. I was around the perimeter but never really allowed in. It’s like looking through a fence at people having fun and not being invited in…ever.

I’ve spent my whole life – thus far – fighting to be accepted.

I know, I know… I shouldn’t want that and be happy with who I am.

But, if you do the research… there is something fulfilling about being accepted. You can do the research too – it’s there.

Knowing that you are accepted by a group and wanted gives a feeling of comfort and completion. It’s like you feel like you belong to the world.

People who are bullied are outcasts and outcasts (who are not bullied) commit suicide because they feel like they don’t belong; there’s no reason for them to be here on this Earth. No one wants them. The entire world rejects them. What’s the point in fighting for it? After a while, you lose that fight and you’re just done.

I’ve been in relationships for the sake of having someone there to want me. For someone to actually LIKE me for a change and not reject me for who I am. And the breakup is harder than most because it’s the rejection again. You’re being rejected by someone whose feelings have changed and they no longer like you. Their.Feelings.Changed.

Imagine the heartbreak. I still have flashbacks of things that happened and things that were said. That rejection replays in my head all the time. And every time I’m rejected today is just adding to the list. When I think of how old I am and the life that’s ahead of me, I know that it’s just going to be a growing line of rejection.

Sometimes, I can’t handle that. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling this way. But it’s the life I’ve been given. I’m an outcast.

It’s been determined that I will live a harder life than everyone else. It’s been determined that people will see me differently than they see you. It’s been determined that I will continue to be rejected. This is the life of an outcast.

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