Quirky.

For as long as I can I remember, words that have been used to describe me have be some of the following adjectives: loving, kind, bubbly, sassy, stubborn, loud but shy, and quirky. All of those words to me were compliments, except for quirky. In my eyes, quirky meant weird, freakish, abnormal.

But over time, I have realized I love being quirky. I am quirky when I randomly have a little burst of dancing in the store, or quirky when I sing along to a song in the middle of a public place, quirky in that a lot of my speaking has word stumbles and noises, or quirky when take big steps when going down a steep hill because it makes me feel like a dinosaur.

See for me, my quirks are some of the greatest things about me. My quirks is me being happy in absolutely the most simple of things. I find joy in the small stuff.

Being quirky, being odd, being off beat isn’t bad, even though it can be seen as such. It means I am different than most. It makes me fun, entertaining, interesting person to be around. Being quirky makes me, who I am. I don’t think I’d ever want to live without these little quirks that makes me who I am.

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