Since I can remember, labels have frustrated me. The concept of judging each other based on what clothing brand we wear isn’t right. But, I’m not talking about these labels; I’m talking about the labels at the root of our being, the labels inside us. These aren’t discovered until someone approaches us and has genuine conversation. It’s through these genuine conversations which true appreciation and understanding are reached.
During the middle of my high school years, I realized I was “different” than my peers. As I was growing up, I’d always been involved in sports, and high school was no different. I was never a superstar, yet loved the camaraderie being part of a team. Despite a locker room atmosphere constantly being around me, I didn’t feel I fit in with the rest of the guys, but kept pushing onward. I ignored the slurs which were barked: “that’s gay”, “hey fag” “faggot”, “you run like a girl”. My stomach sank and body ached each time I heard these. All the talks about girls and which ones were the hottest were so off setting; I tried avoiding these altogether to save myself from lying. I was a shell of myself, hiding in fear of what might happen. I was ashamed to be viewed as “different”, and then, be punished for not being the “typical jock”. I was terrified of what I thought others would say and do. I kept to myself, only boiling over my frustration and anger. Coming to terms with my sexual identity was something I didn’t fully accept until a few years later, but this struggle also brought on the real struggles of depression, anxiety, and bipolar. I’ve accepted I’ll probably carry these scars with me for the rest of my life.
On the outside, I was seen as “normal” because my day wasn’t that different from my peers: wake up, go to school, go to practice, come home, eat dinner, and relax before going to bed, only to wake up to start a new day. None of my peers saw my sleep routine. None of my peers knew what I did when they weren’t around. My peers didn’t know the battles I was facing, the ones eating me from the inside out. Despite the amount of time spent around my teammates, they didn’t truly know me. It was much easier to focus on the everyday. I craved for someone to ask me about me, to dig deeper. Instead, I listened to what everyone said, true to my nature.
If I had a label back then, it would read “Depression, Anxiety, Gay, Bipolar, Jock” and my teammates and classmates wouldn’t know how to treat me. Today, my label remains the same, more or less. Just the same as then, some people don’t know how to label me. The main difference is that now I accept who I am and I know ways to counter those who say I’m not “normal”. Underneath all the layers, I’m human. You’re human. We’re all human. I’m the same person as I was, except now I’m a seasoned veteran as opposed to a 2-star prospect.
Removing a label isn’t always easy. But, once it’s removed, there is a sense of accomplishment and you want to show off your new item. The same rule applies to getting to know someone, with genuine conversation doing the label removal instead of your fingers. Remove the labels and get to know someone new; we live in a melting pot, where each story is waiting to be shared. Let someone share their story.
The bare bones. Feel free to add your own label. Better yet, make your own.
- Brandon -