PECULIAR (✓)

Prologue

There are many adjectives used to describe someone, some insulting and others vague, yet the one my teacher gave me keeps me tossing in my sleep at night for reasons unknown to me.

Being now 22 years of age, you'd think I'd let go of a passing comment from a teacher 10 years ago, but the word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

My mother named me Alettra, one could argue that the name itself was odd, but I preferred unique. Though it did bother me that I could never find my name printed on any products such as bookmarks or mugs as easily as my friend Nicole could... Ex-friend Nicole.

But Alettra meant shining according to my mother, but in my case, if I was ever spotted, it would be for a more unbecoming reason than a positive one. Like when my mother gives me a look reminding me that my sitting position was too manly or if I dared voiced my political or social opinion around my more conservative family members. If you could even call them family...

My two younger sisters beat me in every other category in which they easily outshined me, not that I minded much, but it did always chip away at me when my mother pointed it out. My hair was anything but 'shiny', the jet black inky strands wrestled each other constantly on top of my head, leaving me with a crown of unruly mess.

Unlike my sisters' groomed brown locks cascading immaculately down their petite shoulders... Petite shoulders, another gene that skipped me through horrendously boney, I was definitely still built like a rugby player.

Large shoulders and a lanky, awkward height that left me always curling myself inwards to appear smaller, but resulted in an unkempt appearance. I'm not shy but rather reserved, however along with my poor posture I like to hide behind that sheepish disposition. Anything that gets me out of social interaction with others, but despite their impression of me, I am not a shy person, even if that was the only adjective they could think of to describe me, which was what my schoolmates and teachers would do.

But they also didn't even know my name, so their assessment of me was already discredited in my mind.

But if they were to say I was awkward then they'd be correct, hence why no one at school would stick around long enough to truly understand who I am... Except for one but then again even she left so maybe this facade is better.

Being lonely is better.

Blunt is an adjective I've learnt to accept. I'm not the nicest, but I definitely don't go out of my way to hurt someone's feelings. Sometimes I don't notice I've done so till I've finished replaying my conversations in my head at the end of the day and wish I could take it back. But I like to think it's because I just grew a thicker skin than most... I had to.

My mother always said my sisters were the delicate, sensitive ones, and that I was strong enough to withstand her truthful comments. I just wish she hadn't proved my strength so much. Whether it be my boyish figure or my dull lacklustre complexion, my mother would comment on it daily. But when I started starving myself, I was rewarded with compliments from her, but also myself. It felt good to physically feel delicate and sensitive despite my outer appearance still being on the large brutish side, but despite this, my mother would just find something new to pick on.

In all honesty my sanity was as fragile as a spiderweb until my mother admitted that I was so unlovable that she only is able to put up with me due to the fact I'm her blood. My sanity broke after that. Now I don't have the energy to even look in the mirror, I just stick with the same black jeans and grey hoodie. I'd rather not try and consequently fail then try and not succeed because my excuse is I don't try to look pretty, when in fact I'm afraid no matter what I do I'll always be dull, boring Alettra.

Onto the word... Yes, that damn word.

PECULIAR. Even the spelling of it distresses me. Was it a positive thing? Perhaps. But then again it was said about me, so most likely not. Different to what many think, I don't go out of my way to go against the grain, but I wouldn't consider myself so odd that I was PECULIAR.

I knew a girl who definitely enjoyed acting outside of the box, heck I marvelled at her, jealous most of the time of her confidence and style. But despite her eccentric appearance she had a group of true friends, a smile on her face and her blue eyes always lit up, juxtaposing her gothic wardrobe adorned with Wiccan symbols. She was in her zone, so to speak. Some called her weird, quirky even but never peculiar.

So why was that the adjective that my one friend Nicole, whom I trusted the most, and my mother agreed suited me the most? What did I do that justified the word PECULIAR as a fitting label for me... Was it the same things that in the end made them dislike me?

But I've decided to change that. Enough with that damn word... This time I'm going to stop hiding behind my facade and own up to what and who I am...

Begrudgingly, I admit I don't know what that is yet, but I'm willing to find out and to find a new word, a better word that suits me.
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