What's so bad about being unashamedly yourself?

This blog post (trigger warning for eating disorders) about Luna Lovegood and how people who are just being themselves, unashamedly, are treated when they don't fall into a socially-constructed "norm" has me thinking.

"You laughed hysterically at one of Ron’s quips and didn’t stop to excuse yourself and feel ashamed when it became clear that everyone found you strange. ... [Y]ou carried your oddness like it was the most natural thing in the world. You didn’t market your oddness as your defining feature the way some insecure teenagers do, in guise of confidence and security. And nor were you oblivious to the awkward and uncomfortable feelings your oddness provoked in others. When, unable to comprehend how you wore your oddness so honestly and unashamedly, your peers reverted to mockery and bullying, you recognised this as a reflection of their own deep-seated insecurity and calmly let them carry on, quite above your head. You weren’t trying hard to present a certain aspect of yourself that would boldly identify you in the world. And that’s when it occurred to me how bizarre and positively ridiculous it was to apply the word “weird” to describe you, when you represented the most natural and unpretentious state possible to be; you were yourself."

Well, that was a bust.

Apparently sending someone unwanted PMs and texts after they break up with you, despite them telling you repeatedly to not contact them, following them to their karaoke bar, making friends with their friends, talking to all the guys they talk to, leaving them unwanted gifts and then refusing to take them back, texting them more, leaving them alone for a couple of weeks and then starting up again ... Yeah, apparently all that isn't stalking, and if the person you're "not stalking" tells people that you're a stalker, then they're making up heinous lies about you and deserve to lose all chance at your friendship.

Gee, and I thought that after almost two years, we could move on and get over this ordeal and maybe be friends again.  I guess I was wrong.  And it irritates me that the textbook definition of stalking apparently isn't stalking, and that I'm wrong and a bad person because I could have sworn that consistent, unwanted attempts at contact despite requesting to have none, unwanted gifts, being followed around ... I could have sworn that those actions constituted stalking.  It irritates me that I finally gained the maturity and bravery to offer some peace and friendship, only to be shot down like that.

No, it doesn't matter that he doesn't want t help with my family; he's not obligated, doesn't have to.  I was trying to make amends.  I gave it my best shot.  And unlike him, I'm not going to push the issue now that it's been made clear he wants nothing to do with me.  God bless him and soften his heart.  My part here is through.

A Family Crises.

Steve

Before I converted, I briefly dated a very intelligent, thoughtful, open-minded man who happened to be a convert to Judaism.  I forget his Jewish name, but his birth-name was Steve.  We broke up for reasons unrelated to either of our religious beliefs (I was pagan or agnostic at the time; can't remember which).

Throughout our relationship, Steve was very adamant about there being a huge difference between Israeli Jews and Zionism, and the rest of the world's Jewry.  He tried to go over and volunteer in the IDF every year,  but he was still very firm in that Zionism did not equal Judaism, and once told me that Jews aren't even supposed to set foot on the Holy Land until the Messiah comes, and that even if Moses himself (peace be upon him) were chasing him, all Steve would do would be to go into Israel and Moses wouldn't be able to follow him.  Steve was upset about the Israeli-Palestinian BS, but he still respected and understood that not every Jew and every Muslim hated each other.  He knew that it was a mainly political mess that was using religion to further its cause.  Steve was also the one who told me that the word "Messiah" is talking about a political leader, not the spiritual leader that most Christians hold it to mean.

I ... wait ... what?

My friends and I saw How to Train Your Dragon tonight; it was freaking fantastic.  Not just the story (why did everyone but the main characters have an accent?  What, can't Americans take an accented main character?), but the animation and the little details thrown in, like barnacles on the boats ... It was fabulous and I'm in love. :)

Speaking of love, we walked out and passed two guys, a thicker one in a white shirt and a skinnier white guy with no beard and no shirt on, who had a cross tattooed on his chest.  I was in my abaya, floral black hijab, and cowboy boots.  We passed each other and he says, "Assalamu alaikum" to me.  Of course I replied, "Wa alaikum as-salam," because that's only polite, but I was puzzled and thrilled at the same time.  I looked back at him a couple times, and told my friends, "That was awesome!"  Then I looked back again and he was looking at me, and smiled and waved, so I grinned and waved back.  I mean, I'm not saying that white guys can't be Muslim (dude, Ms. Whitey McWhiteypants, here), but I really doubt the guy was Muslim, and just the fact that a semi-gangsta-looking dude with a cross on his chest would know the Muslim greeting and say it, was freaking awesome.

So we piled into the car (I scratched my eyeball this morning, somehow, so John was chauffeuring and Kim was in the front seat, and I was in the back) and pulled out, and the guys had turned around and were walking the direction we were heading.  Kim offered to roll the window down and whistle at him for me, and offer me for 40 camels, but I told her not to.  He was really cute, though, and kept looking at me and smiling, and waved again.  So I smiled and waved back.

It was a great experience; I'm not complaining.  It was just way out of the blue, you know?  :D