For Years, I Was the “ABNORMAL” One — Here’s Why I’m Done Playing That Game (Feat. the TRIPPY MIRROR)

For years, I was trapped in the reflection of “ABNORMAL”—a label that wasn’t just a passing judgment but a relentless image cast upon me, like the unblinking gaze of a “TRIPPY MIRROR.” It wasn’t something that faded when I moved, nor was it a glance that could be easily dismissed. It was a permanent reflection—one that followed me everywhere, always there to remind me that I didn’t fit into their world.

What made it worse?

The people who handed me that label never questioned their own reflection. It was as if they stared into their own TRIPPY MIRRORS, saw their perfect selves, and turned to me, pointing their fingers, saying, “You don’t fit in here.”

They didn’t ask, “What’s really going on with her?”

Nah.

It was far easier to blame me—to say I was the problem.

In their world, I was the one who couldn’t reflect their ideal version of normal.

The more I tried to mold myself into their perfect version, the more I felt like a shadow of myself.

The harder I tried to fit into their mold, the more I became distorted, like a warped reflection in their TRIPPY MIRROR—constantly shifting to fit their image yet never truly fitting.

And the label “ABNORMAL” didn’t fade—it deepened, like an enchantment I couldn’t break.

Early Years: I Was Labeled “ABNORMAL”

From an early age, I was labeled “ABNORMAL”—not because I was inherently different, but because it was easier for others to place me in a box they didn’t have to understand.

I wasn’t a “problem” in the traditional sense.

I wasn’t breaking rules or misbehaving.

I just didn’t fit into their idea of what was “normal.”

As a child, I didn’t have the language to articulate it, but I felt it in every glance and comment.

There was a sense that I just didn’t belong—that I was different—but no one bothered to wonder why.

Instead, they chose to label me.

I became the “odd one,” simply because my individuality didn’t mirror the images they were used to seeing in themselves. It was as though there was a TRIPPY MIRROR reflecting only the traits they disliked, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t match their expectations.

It wasn’t that I was doing something wrong; it was that I didn’t fit their narrow version of normal.

And for a long time, I couldn’t understand why being me wasn’t enough.

The Praise: When I Played Their Game, I Was Valued

Things shifted when I started to excel academically.

Suddenly, the same people who had labeled me “ABNORMAL” were now praising me for my achievements.

My high grades, my ability to follow rules, and my seeming discipline made me valuable in their eyes.

I became the model student, and in return, I received the recognition and approval I had long been craving.

But here’s the thing: the more I conformed to their expectations, the more valuable I seemed to become.

They praised me for being mature, focused, and easy to be around.

Of course, I was “easy to be around”—I was no longer me. I was a version of myself that perfectly reflected their version of success. I had become a mirror that reflected back what they wanted to see.

But the deeper truth was that they weren’t seeing me for who I really was. They only saw what they wanted to see: their perfect idea of normal.

And it was exhausting.

I spent all my energy playing their game.

I wasn’t living for myself; I was living to stay within their approval.

The Breaking Point: When I Spoke the Truth, I Was Labeled “ABNORMAL” Again

Eventually, I reached a breaking point.

After years of shrinking, molding, and contorting myself to fit into their boxes, I couldn’t do it anymore.

I had to speak the truth.

I had to speak up about how I felt—the pressure to meet their expectations, the strain of constantly fitting into a mold that wasn’t mine.

And the moment I did?

The moment I stopped reflecting back their idealized version of me, I was once again labeled “ABNORMAL.”

The TRIPPY MIRROR shattered.

I was suddenly the problem.

The moment I spoke my truth, I became the one who no longer fit.

Instead of empathy, I was met with judgment.

Instead of understanding, I was met with dismissal.

I became the villain in a story I didn’t want to be a part of.

The very thing that made me unique—my willingness to be authentically me—was the thing they couldn’t accept.

And so, I was cast aside once more.

No longer the ideal student, I was “ABNORMAL” again.

The Shifting Faces: I Was Living in a World of Chameleons

What I couldn’t quite grasp at the time was just how easily the people around me could shift their perceptions of me.

One moment, I was the perfect reflection, doing everything right. The next, I was the problem—too different, too outspoken, too much of myself.

It felt like I was living in a world of chameleons, constantly adjusting to meet the needs and desires of those around me.

If I stayed silent, played the game, and reflected back their idea of perfection, I was their ideal. But the second I let my true self show—the second I stopped reflecting their image—I became ABNORMAL again.

It was maddening.

One moment, I was celebrated. The next, I was discarded.

Their idea of normal was in constant flux, and I was left trying to keep up, trying to fit myself into a mold that was always changing.

The Final Wake-Up Call: I Am Not the Problem

And then it hit me: I wasn’t the problem. I wasn’t “ABNORMAL.” The real problem was their inability to accept me for who I truly was.

I had spent years trying to reflect back an image that wasn’t even mine.

I had played their game, followed their rules, and bent myself into shapes that didn’t feel right.

But it wasn’t about me. It was about their inability to accept someone who didn’t fit their mold.

I didn’t need to shrink anymore.

I didn’t need to twist myself to fit their expectations.

The issue wasn’t me. The issue was their need to control who I was and how I showed up in the world.

Conclusion: Break the Mirrors, Reject the Labels

Looking back, I realize that being called “ABNORMAL” was never really about me. It was about a world that demands conformity—a world that pressures you to shrink yourself, hide your true nature, and fit into someone else’s vision of what’s acceptable.

But here’s what I’ve learned: I don’t need to fit into anyone else’s idea of “normal.”

If someone can’t accept me—all of me—then they don’t deserve a place in my life.

I am not the problem.

So here’s to breaking those TRIPPY MIRRORS, rejecting labels, and embracing the freedom of being who I truly am—unapologetically real.

If that makes others uncomfortable? That’s not my burden to carry. It’s theirs.