A friend spoke to me today about always feeling different, of never fitting in. High school is no doubt the most punishing of the schooling experience; kids of that age are going through puberty, discovering truths about themselves and the often cruel and unjust pecking order of society. Even though I always felt different from my peers and never felt part of things—whether by choice or by the arbitrary edicts of social group politics—there was what I believe is a hard-wired desire to fit in, if only to not be left out of things. Actually, it wasn't that I was left out as much as my inability to have the requisite enthusiasm for what was valued: popularity, achievement, attractiveness. Maybe my not fitting in was partly because of my rebelliousness, my defiance, my having moved around often in my most formative years. When I was about fifteen I came across Emerson's essay "Self-Reliance." It exhorted those who found themselves marching to a different drummer to value originality at all cost, to reject conformity. "Imitation is suicide," he wrote, an idea that made perfect sense to my naive, idealistic 15-year-old self.
We all have a need to belong unless we are bonafide hermits. But there is belonging—via caring for others, contributing to the good of your community or to larger society, fighting injustice and speaking for others who are unable to speak for themselves—and going along to get along: in other words, not rocking the boat for fear of being ostracized or worse. You may risk being the ultimate outsider by going against the madding crowd, but you'll have your dignity and self-respect intact, two things you can never put a price on.
Although some derisively pooh-pooh it, I've taken the Myers-Briggs test a number of times over the years. I concluded that being in the group to which I was assigned I was probably destined to have difficulties in life—at least in trying to fit in and which I stopped trying to do.
If you're a horse, painting stripes on yourself will not make you a zebra. It will just make you unhappy and untrue to yourself. Just be glad to be a horse. Actually, celebrate it.