After a colossally crappy week last week, I hit the ground running on Monday. Sometimes you need a few poor decisions to slap you in the face and wake you up to what you’re doing with your time. So here I am!

Even though I started my blog back in February of 2022, I started showing up for this work at the end of July. When I began thinking out-loud through my writing, I was terrified to express my true thoughts and feelings on the World Wide Web.

But the more I do it, the easier it gets (like most things in life). Putting my thoughts out into the world under my own name has helped me to find my voice again. And now, dear readers (hi mom & dad!), it’s time to pivot yet again. 

I’ve rebranded my ideas under the Abi Normal Society. Remember when I told you I wanted to launch a community coffee house where everyone was welcome and we’d have lots of different classes and things? Well, this is my online version of that dream.

The Abi Normal Society aims to provide community support, resources, and tools for people to love and value themselves just as they are. I wanted to rebrand because this concept is so much bigger than me and its eventual success will be because of the wonderful people that will (and already have) come together to make it the wonderful society it will be. Dr. Jess will help get ‘er off the docks, but it’s going to take a lot of other wonderful people to keep her afloat.

I’m rebranding everything. All my social media accounts, my newsletter (which is Abi Normal News by the way), and soon I will have a new website as well. Yesterday I launched a facebook group for people to come together to support one another on this journey: Self-Love & Self-Worth for Misfits. Come and join us if you’re so inclined!

Part of me feels like I have no freaking clue how to do all this stuff, but that’s ok. My mentor told me that every time I feel imposter syndrome leering at me to remember why I’m doing this. I’m doing this for people to feel seen, valued, heard. 

You may be wondering why in the heck I named this brand the Abi Normal Society. Unless you’ve seen Young Frankenstein, you’re probably like “What a weird name…” And if you have seen Young Frankenstein, did I nail it or what?!

But I digress. In Mel Brooks’ movie, Young Frankenstein, there’s a scene after they’ve brought the ‘monster’ to life and things aren’t really going well. Dr. Frankenstein, his assistant Igor, and the lovely Elizabeth have a debrief about why things are a hot mess. 

Dr. Frankenstein turns to Igor and asks, “Now, that brain that you gave me. Was it Hans Dell Brooks?” Turns out, no. It sure wasn’t. 

Frankenstein’s follow up question is, “Would you mind telling me whose brain I did put in?” Igor responds, “Abi someone… Abi Normal.” Lolz. Frankenstein loses his shit over the fact that he unknowingly put an “abnormal” brain into this ungodly, reconstructed hulk of a human.

That’s the scene, and I’ve been quoting it since I was a child. Why did I choose this scene to represent my new brand, you ask? A few reasons. 

For one, Young Frankenstein is a great movie and I love me some comedy. But more importantly, we’re all a bit Abi… Abi Normal. Every single one of us has our flaws, baggage, insecurities, and imperfections. And every single one of us, just like Frankenstein’s monster, is worthy of love no matter how Abi Normal we are.

I can’t think of a better sentiment to bring my new monster– I mean society into this world. While I continue this transition, I will probably continue to write on my personal website because it’s therapeutic to me and maybe it’s enjoyable for a small handful of people to read.

If you’re interested in joining this merry band of misfits, come say hi to me in our FB group or subscribe to Abi Normal News to get some great info on the stuff we all face as Abi Normal humans and ideas on how we can navigate them the best we can.

“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.” 

Throughout my life I’ve gravitated towards the “misfits” of the world. The people who don’t quite fit in, who carry the label of “weird”, who don’t conform in the way society tells them they’re supposed to. I love these people.

When you meet me, you might not think I’m one of these people at first glance. I’ve perfected the art of being someone other people want me to be. I’m really good at putting total strangers at ease and finding areas of common ground to talk about.

I can talk to people of all ages, backgrounds, creeds, and affiliations. But this is a skill I learned over the years. I’ve learned how to put other people’s stories first and hide my own.

When I’m by myself I burst into song, make weird noises, dance around, talk to myself, make funny faces. I spin wild ideas I think could solve the world’s problems while my bedroom is littered with dirty clothes, a million water glasses, and papers I never put away. I cackle loudly at puns and slapstick humor.

I am a misfit in my own right, I just learned to hide it when I thought I needed to. I learned to tone myself down to be more palatable for the majority of people. Not too loud, not too bold, not too smart, not too energetic… I watered myself down to try to fit in.

But doing all of that comes at a steep cost. It led me to disconnect from myself more and more to the point that I became suicidal. The more I tried to be less, the less I wanted to live. And to me, that is far too steep a price to pay. 

So I’m learning to peel back the layers of conditioning, suppression, and silence. Bit by bit, I let my weird bubble out. I laugh loudly. I censor myself less. I swear more (which is my natural state). 

And sometimes this is freaking painful. When we suppress ourselves for so long, we have lots of emotions that have been aching to get out. We have relationships that suddenly implode. Jobs that are suddenly intolerable.

But this process is also a breath of fresh air. Because the one thing I am certain we are all meant to do in our lifetimes is to learn to love the people we are. When we make a commitment to learn to love all our parts (even the ones other people tell us are ugly, smelly, mean, and wrong), a massive weight is lifted. 

We were born into this body, and one day we will die in it. So much of the external world is out of our control, but we do have control over the relationship we decide to have with ourselves. It is the only relationship that is truly one-sided, and it is the relationship that matters the most.

The world is big enough to hold the diversity of humans it has. It’s big enough for the weirdos, the suits, the artists, the stay-at-home moms and dads, the nerds, the shut-ins, the hippies, the dominatrixes, the geeks, the dreamers, the gym rats… There’s enough room for all of us.

Humans come in all different flavors, and isn’t that wonderful? Without diversity of thought, body, and experience, how would we survive? I think it’s one of the things that makes our species stunning. 

So the next time you find yourself pushing down the parts of you that you think are wrong or weird or unlikeable, don’t. You are a freaking masterpiece, and your presence on this planet is not only valid, it’s a gift. Find the people who celebrate the awesomeness that you are, and don’t worry about the ones that don’t get you. Those people aren’t for you, and vice versa.

And if you’re thinking, “I don’t know anyone who celebrates me for me!” then you need to start by celebrating yourself. Your relationship with yourself comes first. As you reconnect with you, you will find the right people on your way. Have faith in yourself and your inner awesomeness.

“A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes where she will without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and herself only.” ~Maya Angelou

For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness. I’ve grappled with the unshakable feeling that I am not enough no matter what I do.

As a child, I was labeled by my family as being “too much.” Too bossy, too selfish, too energetic, too emotional. So I did what many little girls do when faced by those messages: I tried to take up as little space as possible.

It started with me taking up less space mentally. I followed all the rules, stayed quiet when I disagreed with someone, and tried not to ask too many questions. A good girl behaves, after all.

When I was in middle school, I began to take up less space emotionally. My mother compared herself to a “basket case” when she cried, so I learned not to cry. My father told me to “change my environment” to change my mood.

I began to compartmentalize my feelings and avoid feeling “bad emotions.” To escape those uncomfortable feelings that I had labeled as bad, I would eat junk food and watch television. Above all else, I avoided being angry, because nice girls don’t get angry.

The last step in shrinking myself occurred when I began to take up less physical space. I have been overweight for most of my life and remember first feeling self-conscious about it in third grade. As I grew older, I would spend a lot of mental energy trying to take up less space for there to be more room for other people.

I would squeeze my thighs and elbows together on airplanes and buses to give other people more legroom. In high school and college, I would sit with my stomach squashed against the desk so people could walk more easily behind me. Unconsciously I strived to keep myself small and take up less breath so other people could have more oxygen.

This went on until I was twenty-seven years old. I had graduated from medical school in South Dakota as the pandemic began picking up speed and went on to start my training as a general surgery resident in California. Unbeknownst to me, this training program would lead to my tipping point.

This excerpt was republished with permission from tinybuddha.com.