Singularity

sin·gu·lar·i·ty
/siNGɡyəˈlerədē/
noun
The state, fact, quality, or condition of being singular; a peculiarity or odd trait.
Physics, Mathematics: a point at which a function takes an infinite value, especially in space-time when matter is infinitely dense, as at the center of a black hole.
Oh, yes. That is the season I am in right now.
Rejecting the hard and fast lines that make it easier to claim a group of people. Accepting nuance instead makes it harder for others to identify with me.
It’s just the season.
Not just for being unique – everyone is unique – but to be different from every group in which I’m involved these days in remarkable ways. To be treated differently because of the differences; after all, why don’t I just find the people who are like me? I’m feeling it – the singularity, the only-ness, the one-lines, the not really belonging. There are things that make me so singular right now, I’m afraid to even talk about them to people about them. I already don’t make sense to them.
But it’s only a season.
At some point, as people get to know me better and better, the singularities will matter less and less. (I hope.) Not because they’ve ceased to exist, but because they’ll just be parts that make up a whole person.
In the meantime, it’s a gift.
It’s teaching me empathy. It’s teaching me to identify. It’s teaching me to appreciate the things that make a person a person, and to value less the things that make a group a group.
It’s making me more compassionate. It’s maturing me, making me wiser.
And of course there’s this song…

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