i don't know what "normal" is anymore. all i know that it is what i am not. i'm the odd girl out. (every night, i cry myself to sleep and wake up each morning wanting to die. i cannot face another day at school knowing that "THEY" will be lying in wait-- stalking like hungry lions after prey, waiting for that moment so they can pounce and shred what dignity that i had left.) i don't know what "normal" is anymore. all i know that it is what i am not. i'm the odd girl out. (everyone keeps telling me to make friends. ha. that's so funny i forgot to laugh. how can i when no one wants to be mine? i'm tired of pretending i don't hear the giggles and sharp "shhhhh!s" when i walk by, cruel fingers pinching, stuck out feet tripping, the constant buzzing of tormenting flies.) i don't know what "normal" is anymore. all i know that it is what i am not. i'm the odd girl out. (everyone knows me but won't admit it, unless it is to say something awful. then i'm the most popular girl in class, because i am the butt of everyone's jokes. when i mess up, everybody knows it. they watch me to catch my next performance. yep. everyone knows "little miss stupid.") i don't know what "normal" is anymore. all i know that it is what i am not. i'm the odd girl out. (just because i don't look like everyone else or talk or act or even dress like them: is that a reason to make my life hell? i hate living as a bug under glass, having my life dissected and labled. what i wouldn't give for a normal day. maybe, someday, i'll be "normal" like them.) the odd girl, OUT.
(C) Copy written, 11 April, 2005, by Karla Dorman.
Others own insecurities can inflict hateful wrath... sometimes being the "odd one out" can be a blessing to what is normal. But what is it? Nothing, there is no "normal" just healthy and unhealthy...
Searingly painful and emotionally honest, Karla, this really HURTS!! And I am so sorry... I think we can all relate to some extent, and all of us have known some kind of deep-seated sense of rejection in our lives somewhere along the line. The "death" that comes into our souls cannot be patched up, but needs to be resurrected or recreated by the loving inspiration of God, I think... but it can be a slow process and can take place over a much longer period of time than it takes for someone to "cut us down". We are all unique and to be cherished, but those who aren't secure in that sure do spend a lot of time trying to keep "in" with the crowd and to mask their individual identity. Probably most of us live a schizophrenic tightrope trying to keep the both in balance - even as adults. Acutely penned and thoroughly real. Bless you and thank you for your absolute specialness to us all here. Kate xx
what a powerful poem here, Karla. I'm sorry it was based at all on your experience. some of my deepest scars are from feeling unusual or outcast and some of my deepest regrets have to do with dismissing or ignoring others (I hope I never participated in the taunting).
Beautifully written in its naked emotion and open-hearted truth. Says what so many cannot, or will not, say for themselves. This poem serves them well.
Reviewed by Susan Barton (Reader)
Reviewed on April 11, 2005
you really captured the teen angst of trying to fit in = nicely done!
I know what it is to be left out
I was the runt of the crow of kids
I grew up with, had to sit at the side lines
most of my summers, when they choose indiviuals
for a team, they rather play one man short
then to pick me.
At times, I think we all felt like we were the odd girl out. I had a much different life than the other kids did. I always thought that they found me to be strange or something; however, in the last several years, so many of those people have contacted me, wanting to get together and as we did, I learned that they all admired me and the way I handled the huge responsibilites that I needed to bear. I found out that though my life was different, they still liked me and and regarded me highly for who I was and am. This is a very emotional write, Karla and really pulled at my deepest feelings.
Take care,
Sherry
Beautifully written from your compassionate heart,Karla,capturing that terrrible alien feeling of those that are left out for whatever reason. I'm sure there is nothing more painful than being treated like that. Everyone needs some recognition,to validate their life. Well done!
this is traumatic, especially for young ones.i had a small clique of girls that hung together to avoid being alone, we weren't very popular but the fact that we had each other made us safe from the hounds....you wrote this very well karla
Both odd girls out and odd boys out often have a truly terrible time of it in our society, even some odd adults out do, too. A powerful poem, Karla, and a truly strong sad message.
Book three in the Megan Martin series finds Megan, May, and Brianna trying to find the missing parents of a homeless girl. In addition, the girls are introduced to the local homeless shelter and do their best to make a happy Christmas for all their
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Love Tinka
"odd girl/boy out" very good write Karla..
Hugs, Carole
I was the runt of the crow of kids
I grew up with, had to sit at the side lines
most of my summers, when they choose indiviuals
for a team, they rather play one man short
then to pick me.
William ......Peace & Love
Take care,
Sherry
Eileen
This really hit home for me; a stark and painful look at what is reality for many children (boys OR girls) today. Outstanding write; well done! BRAVA!
(((HUGS)) and much love, your twin, Karen Lynn. ;( >tears <
God Bless
Michelle