On being the black sheep of the family.

99% of Filipinos are either dancers, singers, and/or basketball players.

And they stereotypically look/dress like this:

People call them boppers ;/

Don’t even tell me I’m stereotyping and exaggerating. I’m actually dead serious.


I’m a million times different.

I grew up thinking they were the “popular” kids.

In the 4th to 6th grade, all I ever wanted to be was “popular.”

I listened to their music, I tried talking like them, but I still wasn’t “good enough.” I was still “different.”

I was one of those weird kids who stayed on the computer all day doing nothing but play games, but I dreamed of becoming so-called “popular.”

Middle school came, and things became a little more extreme. I mean, long story short, I basically had no friends in middle school.

Worst part was that my sister hung out with the people I wished I was with.

High school came quickly than expected, and I gradually grew out of the whole “popularity” thing, and then I suddenly believed that the whole popularity thing was nothing but middle school and that it completely wore off in high school.

The thing is, I was still “different.” But I didn’t mind.

I thought being different was cool, I mean I thought that there was nobody like me.

I was “unique.”

It wasn’t until it was debut season when I realized being different wasn’t such a good thing.

It was my cousin’s debut, and since she lived in Las Vegas, I had no choice but to go and get dragged along with my family. The family I don’t “fit in” with.

I’ve mentioned them before, right?

If I haven’t, well, basically they’re part of the so-called “popular” kids in the school.

Or what I like to call them now, boppers.

So, during her debut…

…Well, it was pretty bad. Let’s just say my phone was my best friend for the night.

Until it died an hour or 2 before the party ended.

You can just imagine how isolated I was.

When everything was over, the only thing I thought was, “Oh, I’m just different than them and it’s better that I am.”

The thing is, it really isn’t a good thing to be different.

It actually REALLY sucks.

I only realized this last night when I was with my family for Mother’s Day. I stuck out like a sore thumb, man. It’s only obvious that I AM the black sheep of the family.

Being different, you think that you’re better, more unique, and nobody out there is like you.

But if nobody is like you, who can you get along with?

I’m not saying it’s a good thing to be the same as everybody, but if everybody tries to be different, that just makes being different cliche.

It really isn’t fun to be the different one. I’m always isolated from other people, and nobody really wants to stick with you.

I don’t wanna be the same as everyone else, either. I mean, that’ll just make me boring.

“Be yourself” is a rather cliche saying, but it’s actually pretty powerful.

I’d rather be Jed than the person who’s too different to get along with anybody, or than the person that’s the same as everyone else.

Last thing’s last, don’t even hope to be different. It’s not a fun thing to be.

I honestly really wish I wasn’t the black sheep of a family of plain old white sheep.

If there were blue, purple, pink with orange polka dots, and dinosaur shaped sheep in everyone’s family, that’ll make my life a whole lot easier.


2 comments on “On being the black sheep of the family.

  1. Unkz says:

    Been there, done that.
    I just think that things are easier once we accept we’re the black sheeps of the family and instead of mourning, we should take advantage of it.
    Everyone says my family is awesome and stuff, and I agree with them, and boy I have such a hard time getting into a real conversation with my parents. I guess I can blame that on the fact that I haven’t really spent time with them when I was child, nor I talked to them about things that happened in my life when I was younger but even though, we can live together.
    You just have to find out what is keeping you from doing that, you already know we’re all different so it’s impossible to share the same interests and taste to things like your mom and sister.
    Find the X that’s keeping you at bay, that’s where you should start from.

  2. […] On being the black sheep of the family. (themlosers.wordpress.com) […]

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