Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always suspected that there’s no such thing as ‘boring people’. Every time I think a person is boring, I’d challenge myself to find why he/she appears to be boring. Do they find themselves boring too? What’s in their head? How can they live like that?
This challenge has been going on since I was a kid. Consequently, I’d go around trying to get to know my classmates on a one-on-one basis. It was more like studying a grasshopper or something. Purely for curiosity.
Of course, not everyone liked to talk to me on a one-on-one basis. Many of them found me weird. As a little girl, I had always been a weird one. I didn’t fit in the stereotype of a sweet little girl. I was far from feminine. I climbed. I punched bullies. I found being feminine repulsive. And when I was little, my mother always cut my hair short, which I find weird because she wanted me to be a sweet little girl, yet cut my hair short like a little boy.
On a side note, now I can pinpoint why I used to find it repulsive to be feminine. It’s the patriarchal structure that diminishes femininity as weak while also demonises it. You can easily find it in the Bible. It was Eve, the feminine one, who brought Adam into the sin. God should’ve just created Steve so it would’ve been Adam and Steve. We would all be gays, still in heaven, running around happily naked, not knowing what an apple is. We won’t die and we don’t pay bills. How is that for a deep life contemplation?
As I grew up, I started to notice that most women are very smart and artistic. All things created by and for women, and feminine men, like those in the fashion industry, are more beautiful and more colourful. Masculine men’s fashion is dull with monotonous colours. But then I like both feminine and masculine designs. I like the dull, monotonous colours. I find them minimalist and elegant. It’s confusing to be me.
Back to boring people. The habit of studying people continues. When I was in high school, I’d hang out with some nerds. Some of my friends, the ‘popular’ kids, laughed at me for hanging out with the nerds.
Turns out I enjoy hanging out with the nerds even though of course, there are things they wouldn’t do, like chewing gum. Or skipping class. Which by the way, thanks to me and a naughty friend, we all, including the nerds, managed to skip a PE class one afternoon, and the next day all 13 of us were punished, yet we laughed as I reminded them they would remember the event as a sweet memory for the rest of their life.
I found the nerds I hung out with unique. As unique as the popular kids. As unique as me. We all have our own fears, favourite colours, favourite food, favourite topics to talk about, things we find funny and make us laugh uncontrollably.
And so far, I haven’t met a boring person. All people I suspect ‘boring’ are all interesting people.
I once suspected someone was a boring person. All he did was grow plants. I was not familiar with growing plants and simply thought it was a boring activity.
Turns out germinating and watching something grow is not boring at all. Especially when this person explained about marijuana. “Once you pollinate them, you can discard the male part because the male is now useless,” he said. I burst into laughter hearing the last sentence. Imagine if the world works that way. That would be scary, yet still sound funny. And so politically incorrect. OK let’s not go that way.
On the other hand, perhaps many people, especially those who don’t know me very well, would find me boring. When I’m in a new environment, I’d usually talk very little and often about light stuff like the weather in various cities. And food. Oh food. Don’t forget about food.
Some people think talking about ‘light stuff’ is boring. So I’ll let them think I’m boring. It’s their failure, not mine.
And my conclusion remains the same, I don’t think boring people exist. Everyone is special. Some of us don’t get along because we happen to have different favourites and taste. We have our own likes and dislikes, our own joys and fears. But there’s no such thing as ‘boring’. Different people interpret things differently. Different doesn’t mean better or worse. We are all unique.
And this reminds me of a quote, my favourite quote, from an Anthropologist, Margaret Mead:
“Always remember that you are absolutely unique.
Just like everyone else.”
