
I didn't grow up popular. Where I grew up, I felt invisible and often alone and I undesrtand what it means to feel like an outsider. Little did I know, that not forcing myself into friendships is my greatest strength.
In the 1960s, I was a little Black girl attending a mostly white school in a quiet suburb of Chicago.
It was 1957. While the South was filled with headlines, picket lines, protests, and the National Guard, the situation was tense.
I simply boarded the school bus each morning, quietly carrying my differences into classrooms where I often felt alone.
When I was seven, I started to notice I was often the only person of color in the room. At home, things were loud and painful. There was drinking, fighting, and too much chaos.
Just when I figured I’d spend recess staring at my shoes forever, a bouncy red-headed, freckle-faced boy ran up, smacked my arm, and shouted, “Tag, Pamela, you’re it!” That was Robert. He didn't see my color.
From that moment on, we tore up the playground like a two-person track team, and I became his unofficial “playground girlfriend.”
So if you’re feeling invisible, don’t worry, your own freckled surprise might be on the way. Keep your eyes open. Life’s funny like that.
At home I found my quiet places in books and the love of my dogs. That's where I felt safe.
But mostly in class at school, at home, just about everywhere, I never really felt like I belonged. Over time, I learned to keep to myself. I became a loner.
And you know what? That turned out to be a gift.
When you're alone, you learn what you like, what you value, and your identity and belonging.
Yes, being left out hurts. Even when we're surrounded by love, praise, and support, our minds seem to hold on to the one person who rejected us.
It's strange how easily we can overlook the applause and focus on the critic instead of the crowd of adorers.
But if you've ever felt like an outsider, you're in brilliant company.
Steve Jobs. Sandra Day O'Connor. Prince. Maya Angelou. Einstein. Edison. Ford. Many of the greatest minds weren't "liked" because they were different.
Different doesn't mean defective. It often means destined.
At 76, I've finally made peace with this truth:
Not everyone will like you. Not everyone is supposed to.
And trying to be liked by everyone is the fastest way to forget who you are.
So here's my invitation, especially to those who still carry the pain of being misunderstood.
Let it go. Love yourself. Approve of yourself. Celebrate the person you've become in the silence.
Because when you stop chasing approval, the that's where you'll realize your greatest strength.
If you want to know more about Pinnacle Lawyer Mastermind group, Click below.