But I Smile Anyway…

The things that make me different are the things that make me.

Winnie The Pooh

Gotta love a bit of Pooh Tao, thanks Spidey!

Go on, hands up. Who is guilty of thinking they need to be ‘like’ others to be accepted?

Thinking a certain way, wearing particular clothes, listening to the ‘in’ music, watching the films everyone is raving about… that kind of thing?

Why do we always want to be keeping up with the Joneses? Why can’t we just be ourselves, and why do you think the world won’t accept you as you are?

As a child I was always different from my school peers. There weren’t many Indian girls in my school. I was never singled out because of it, but where they were horseriding and having piano lessons at the weekends, I was going to family weddings and attempting to learn how to read and write my home language, Punjabi (I failed… can speak and understanding fluently, but the reading/writing? Nope!)

We grew up together and as the others were worrying about prospective boyfriends and dates for the ball we had at 15, then discussing the late night bars they began to frequent, and clubs, I was still there, enjoying the music they listened to, and joining in with their chats about crushes on teeny bopper pop idols, and our own real life crushes, but I was also still busy every weekend with my family (it’s huge, there are neverending lists of events and functions to attend, even now!)

It didn’t single me out in a negative way, my friends just knew I wouldn’t be turning up at the non uniform day in a miniskirt and cropped top, despite it being the fashion. I’d be wearing whatever sensible clothes my mum thought were best.

Because that was me. Ratty. Yes, that was my nickname at school. Not because I was bad tempered or anything, but because my full first name is Ratinder, and we watched The Wind In The Willows one day and the character Ratty came up… and so I was christened. One of my oldest school friends still calls me Ratty, over thirty years later!

As I hit university, I admit, I went through the whole fitting in thing. I wore the clothes everyone else did, went to all the clubs, drank all the drinks, and skipped the lectures… but it took me a while to realise that that wasn’t really me.

In all honesty, it took me a good twenty more years to find ‘me’.

Yes I was always, and will always be Ritu the Daughter, Ritu the Sister, Ritu the Wife, Ritu the Daughter-in-Law, Ritu the Mother, Ritu the Colleague, Ritu the Uni friend, Ratty the school mate.

But I no longer conform to what others may expect. I will wear what I want and feel comfortable in. I will eat what I fancy. I will go where I feel a pull to attend, not be forced to go to events that are a drain on my soul. I will laugh. I will cry. I will write. I will read. I will do everything that I enjoy. That makes me, me.

I won’t be a stereotype.

I will be me.

So… tell me, when did you realise it is okay to be YOU?