Not Bracelets

You'd think that growing up in a trailer park where my best friend's stepdad was the neighborhood meth dealer would have left me less sheltered. Still, somehow my innocent eyes made it through childhood and past high school. Maybe it was a willful ignorance, who knows. Do you remember those brightly colored silicone wristbands with encouraging phrases on them? When I was little, those bracelets were the highest fashion. Yellow, blue, fuchsia, tangerine...all colors of the rainbow. As poor as my family was growing up, we rarely got any of those fancy wristbands, common as they are. Any time I saw one free for the taking, my child-heart leap with joy.

Excitement pulsed through my being as I strolled into college orientation. Finally, I was around people who had interests like mine. I chose to go to the student center for the third and final breakout session before lunch. They were set to tell us about the various clubs and activities we could join. I was relieved to have my good friend (and crush) sitting by my side. Being a genuine introvert myself, Rudy was my antithesis: his exuberance flooded everywhere he went. His talent was making new friends and belting his favorite operatic overtures for all to hear. Chattering around us were many other new college students, fresh out of high school. The energy was strong and we all sat through the session, leaning forward on our seats to learn how to best fit in to this new chapter of life.

As the session ended, Rudy stood and chattered away with our new acquaintances while I hung to the side, listening and observing, like always. Whereas Rudy's voice is large and booming, famous for its perfect alto, mine is rather quiet and hushed. His voice is just like the trombone he plays well. Though I am skilled with a trumpet, my voice sounds nothing like a bugler's should. It is more like a harp: soft, every note precise, and hard-pressed to rise above the fortissimo of others'.

My newfound group of friends drifted toward the door. It was lunchtime and bellies could be heard gurgling with anticipation of the university's delicacies. Rudy turned to me, and introduced me to even more freshmen as we walked out of the door of the student's resource center, and leading the procession was none other than my introverted self.

Our group floated out of the doors and a bowl full of colors yelled for my attention. Still talking to the group, I excitedly reached into the bowl to get one of those cool wristbands. As my inexperienced hand made contact with the contents of the bowl, time slowed to a crawl. The swell of students behind me burgeoned as all noise met a caesura. A large bottleneck of hungry kids peered over shoulders to see the roadblock as I lifted the colorful treasures up for all to see.

Rudy's expressive face exploded in surprise. He began to laugh. To my horror, everyone else was giggling and piling up by the door, detained by my sudden fascination with the colorful bowl. What coveted prize had my ignorant hands grasped and cheerfully vaulted to the sky?

Not colorful, encouraging bracelets. Condoms.

As a claw drops toys in a vending machine, my arm dropped those bad boys like they were as hot as the blood rushing to my face. I turned and walked more briskly ahead of the crowd and its bursts of laughter. We drifted off to lunch and I smiled off the giggles from my old and new friends over burgers and ice cream.

No matter the strength of my efforts, I've always found it impossible to fit in. Looking back at my preschool group photo, I was the only girl in straight-cut blue jeans, a t shirt, and tousled hair among the princesses with neat curls and bright sundresses. Today, I still find myself the outcast: scrolling through Instagram only to see my best friends' escapades while I read away on my cozy couch, uninvited.

Sometimes there is truly nothing to be done about being the round peg in a square-hole world. One thing is certain, though: no matter how many blunders life feeds you (even if it seems like you're the blunder), they always make for good stories, if you can find the laughter for it and just one good friend to share it with.