“Do you think I’m cute?”

“Nope, you’re weird.”

Not exactly what I wanted to hear in elementary school, but honestly, it could’ve been worse.

My best friend Cheryl and I were basically branded as “weird,” which we took as a compliment because it clearly meant that we were funny.

And honestly? We were. In that odd way that giggly girls will do anything to make the other one laugh.

We spoke in accents, laughed way too hard at people tripping (I didn’t say we were mature), and once walked to the lunchroom on our knees like we were on a pilgrimage at Fatima.

And here’s something cool I just learned. The word weird once meant fate. Destiny.

Now I wonder if all that weirdness was actually the universe trying to send me a memo.

Maybe the whole point was to stop trying to be normal & just be me.

To tell my silly stories on LinkedIn & see if they resonate.

I don’t know if we ever really figure out what our destiny is until the very end.

When we finally learn the meaning of life & whether Elvis really died.

But I do know this: I am having a much better time being myself than when I was struggling to sound like the coach I thought I was supposed to be.

And that feels like progress.

Some might even say fate.

If you’d like to explore what your inner weirdo might be trying to tell you, let’s talk. 

P.S. This Minnesota Lutheran had no idea what a pilgrimage at Fatima was either. Then I married a catholic & traveled to Portugal. So now I know just enough to be dangerous.