There’s a quiet kind of rebellion that doesn’t wear black leather or scream through a megaphone.It doesn’t set things on fire, except maybe your comfort zone.
It’s the kind of rebellion where you simply… don’t do what’s expected.You ask questions that aren’t supposed to be asked.You grow in directions the old fishbowl can’t contain.You stop explaining yourself,and instead start exploring yourself.
Some people think not fitting in is a failure.But what if it’s the very first step to becoming something bigger than the box you were born into?
When I was in school, I didn’t exactly go looking for trouble, but I wasn’t trying to fit the mold either. My school bag was covered in graffiti, profanity and all, scrawled in Tip-Ex like a badge of honour. When the school cracked down, my mother boiled the whole thing black to cover it up. Even then, my desk bore a red-and-black ink tattoo of every rock band I loved—a personal map etched into wood so I could find my desk after the floors were polished clean.
There was no grand agenda. Just the need to make something mine in a world that didn’t feel like mine.
In my family, like many others, there was a silent curriculum: be polite, be proper, don’t stand out too much, and for heaven’s sake, don’t question too loudly. But rebellion doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it takes the form of mismatched socks or painting the walls of your soul in colours no one else can understand.
My aunt did just that. After years of living in a home that never really felt like hers, she inherited it. And instead of redecorating with store-bought chic, she turned every door into a canvas. Inside that home, every surface tells a story. No formal training, no rules. Just the raw freedom of finally being able to take up space, loudly, proudly, and in full colour. Her art isn’t just beautiful. It’s proof of survival.
We talk a lot about healing, but we rarely talk about how revolutionary it is.To heal is to rebel against what hurt you.To unmask yourself in a world that loves masks is the kind of courage no one gives medals for.
So when you feel like the odd one out, when you find yourself doodling instead of taking notes,or crying over a journal instead of at a party,remember:
You’re not failing.You’re just stepping out of the fishbowl.
And maybe…just maybe, you were never meant to be caught in the first place.
Disclaimer: This article is intended for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. Please consult with a qualified healthcare professional for diagnosis and treatment.
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