The Plasti-scene

A certain lyric from a Placebo song made a lot of sense to me yesterday. Don’t go and sell your soul for self-esteem, don’t be plasticine. Don’t forget to be the way you are. Truer words have never been sung!

Once upon a time, everyone was expected to fit in. We were supposed to be whatever was considered "normal." We were supposed to be into what everyone else liked. We were supposed to think the way everyone else thought. We were supposed to be like everyone else.

Being one of the odd ones out among our peers just sucked. I can remember never having a solid set of real friends until the sixth grade. I would partake of my snacks alone, or occasionally with someone who would eventually find someone else, and I would watch these big groups of seemingly happy people, enjoying each other’s company. I’d wonder why I couldn’t be part of something like that. What was it about me that was so strange, that I could never fit in?

Maybe I wasn’t pretty enough, maybe I didn’t watch the right television shows, maybe I didn’t like the right kind of music, maybe I didn’t wear the right clothes, maybe I didn’t know anything about the popular culture. Whatever it was, it was really depressing. I didn’t know how to express my feelings to the people who actually cared about me (my family). I felt so alone. (Circa age 11; such superficiality must be understandable.)

At some point, I resorted to watching certain people and picking out particular traits in their personalities that I liked, or that others seemed to like. I took careful note of what they seemed to be into and tried to coax myself into being the same and liking the same things.

I sold my soul for self-esteem. I was plasticine.

I spent years building layer upon layer of façade to cater to all of those people who didn’t care the least bit about me, and eventually, I crumbled under the weight. I let go of what made me essentially myself to be like everyone else. I let go of my personality, of my individuality, in order to be accepted.

It didn’t work. I still didn’t fit in. Not only was I miserable, I also no longer knew who I was.

Don’t forget to be the way you are.

I have long since snapped out of that nightmare. Little by little, I picked up the pieces of my identity and put myself back together; the way I was really meant to be. Of course, I picked some other things up along the way, delicately developed over the years. Self-confidence and interaction, for instance, I learned from musical theater classes. Some other traits, like musical preference, were unintentionally nourished by rocker aunts and MTV Alternative Nation. (Yes, MTV was good for something! It gave me Bjork, Nirvana, Kula Shaker, Garbage, and Placebo when I was a confused child looking for the voice of my generation. I found it! Rock and roll!) We cannot help subconsciously incorporating the likes and dislikes of the people who raised us into ourselves, but I digress.

Now, the world embraces "weird" people like me. We are actually encouraged to be different. Many people now seek to be unique. At last, people want to stand out and be considered exceptional individuals; they want to establish their personalities and become one of a kind.

Yes, we can finally feel free to be ourselves. Whatever that is. Whether who you are fits into the cookie-cutter mold, whether you don’t. We can be who and what we want.

Finally, the world is beginning to make sense.

Maybe non-conformity has become the fashion. Many will find the idea repulsive, but I see it otherwise. Some worry about the proliferation of poseurs, or people who are just riding along with the current fad, but at least it’s a refreshing change from how things used to be. People are trying to be diverse, trying to be different. That’s okay. In fact, that’s great. As long as we don’t forget to be the way we are. The way we really are.

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It just occurred to me that if more people like the bands that I like, maybe there’s a tiny chance that they’ll develop a decent fanbase here and they’ll come here to perform! Wow! A Perfect Circle! Please! As always, comments and complaints can be sent to bewaretheashtraygirl@yahoo.com.