You somehow came to find your tribe of people

You somehow came to find your tribe of people, due to the fact that you were a woman, you were black, you were gay, you were transgendered, you were Native American, you were anything but a neurotypical, heteronormative, Caucasian, CIS-gendered male of Midwestern, middle-class, Protestant upbringing. You had to be different because if you were going to simply be the kind of person who held the dominant privilege/power/hegemon in this time and place, it would mean you could no longer complain about anything and you could no longer seek distinction outside of your privileged place.

As for myself, I was that bland, privileged man you hated. I couldn’t deny who I was long enough and hard enough to ever be anyone but the norm. I never quite came to a place where I hated myself, but I certainly couldn’t bring myself to love other white men just for being white men. Surely, I could make the old college try at loving them for being children of God, but I hated their sports and their music and their bromance culture. I hated their Judd Apatow movies and their hipster terminology and Geek chic and nerdcore and God only knows what else they spawned, because I tried to avoid it like the plague. No, I shouldn’t say that. I tried to learn about their Burning Man, and their Star Trek/Comic Con conventions, etc, and make myself want to be a part of it. I tried to drink their beer and follow their sports and favorite television shows, but my heart wasn’t there.

All of the above could be summed up succinctly to say that I fit in nowhere, with nobody, and nobody would have me be a part of their tribe.

But, let’s be clear: I was a miserable failure at every single thing I tried. After all, I probably would have ended up fitting in with some sort of group of fellow misfits if I had succeeded at being a stellar misanthrope. The truth is, no group would have me. Those who were routinely mocked for being slow of wit or obsessed with some random thing wouldn’t have me. Those who were deeply into the work of the Devil, or the works of fantasy–they found me abhorrent. There was nowhere for me to rest my head, no single group of human beings who accepted me as I was, and said, yes, you are one of us, come and partake of what we partake.

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