I have been playing with an idea for awhile now. It is kind of silly in that I have been slow to accept it even though its truth is apparent and obvious to probably everyone but me. Ready?

I will be misunderstood and that is ok.

I have treated that fact with an inordinate amount of contempt. I have dedicated my entire growing up to knowing myself as best as I can with severe honesty so that I can explain myself plainly to others and escape miscalculation. I have not yet succeeded.

There are a lot of factors that have robbed me of my success. First, there are the sciences which teach that people are liars above all in their self-perception so you must disregard what people tell you about themselves. Second, there is the plain fact that many people are liars and so experience also teaches a wariness of other's opinions with a high value set upon the observer's limited view. Thirdly, people are human. They will see what they want to see, what they are afraid of seeing, and they will draw judgments when they should draw up a chair and ask more questions. We are busy creatures who contract business with misinformation as our currency.

And I am learning that all of this is ok. I thought that I needed to be understood; and I have benefitted greatly from that belief in what I learned from myself in order to correct the generalizations that I was saddled with but never fit.

The truth is, for the rest of my life I will fit the average American's definition of a man more than that of a woman. I will have the psyche of a oldest child crossed with a middle child and I will be a little bit culturally confused because of my growing up and it will defy the definitions people try to dress me in. I will always be confused about my socioeconomic classification. The truth is, I will always disappoint those who live their life under the rule and reign of stereotypes and generalizations. Part of me will always answer to a name that is not actually mine. And I am aware that that is just fine.

I am not the first to have to learn to survive in a world that is not built for people like me. I will not be the last. It is a lot to expect the world to drop their presumptuous habits, their hurtful ways of speaking about what is obviously true for "people like us" as I look over my should and realize that "us" means me and I don't identify that way. I often wonder what happens when they realize that, if it is either "us" or "them", I live in a different camp than them. The truth is, I do not suffer the worst of this assumption and presumption. In many cases, the identity I am handed is one of a privilege that I barely understand much less know how to use. Therefore my grievance does not cause me the suffering that it could if I was assigned a different descriptor.

I am still misunderstood, but I am learning that this is the rule not the exception. I am learning that people live and build their identities in the cracks between the names that cultures and societies give us. When you do not expect to be understood, the sting lessens and the disappointment fades. And those who do understand you and who take the time to know your real name become that much more valuable. It is then that you realize the gift they have given you and stop taking it for granted.