Even before I knew what
outlier meant, I felt the pangs of being different from the other members of my
immediate family. Unlike anyone else, I was a girl without a mother.
People often looked at me
with a sort of disdain. I remember being called “a child of the devil” by an elder member of my
family. The sad thing is that for a long time, I believed her.
Looking back, I was a sort of stray
longing for someone to recognize value in me; wanting someone to look at
me recognize me and tell me with courage and hope in their eyes who I was.
Usually this validation of love and character comes from the people that
love us. Usually, one’s parents
and later from our peers. It’s
what self-esteem is built on. But when you’ve
lived a life where you’ve felt the
pangs of being less than worthy, less than loved, you’ll finding yourself longing for
validation of worth and love than may never come.
