Saturday Night with a Hunchback

It’s Saturday night and I am in a laundromat with three other people, men who are curiously in suits and incredibly high, and the worker.

On my way here I passed by one of the newest and hippest bars in my neighborhood, and since it’s warm, everybody is out.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the contrast of myself and my peers. I am in a 10-year-old shirt and sweatpants with a large Ikea bag on my back, which gives me the silhouette of a hunchback.

And then there’s the rest of my generation dressed up, spending money, drinking, eating, trying way too hard, flirting, desiring to meet the one or for the one right now, with no hunchbacks. Well, I am not sure on that as I didn’t actually see everyone.

What makes me laugh at this entire scenario is that I am not longingly looking at them wanting to be in their shoes — I am fine in my knock-off Toms briskly walking down Fullerton. No, it’s my independence, my introversion, the bliss I feel in being alone, observing the world from the outside.

I have this pressure whether it’s from friends and family to be more like my generation. Some have used the argument that I will never marry. Some have said it makes me a bad evangelist.

Yet, here’s what I have to say about that. I am confident in the fact that God has made all types of people to reach all types of people. He made me this way and He is forming me more into the woman He created me to be. He doesn’t want to replace me; He wants to set me free from the sin that is in my life. So maybe me being on the outside is for the people who are also on the outside? They will know they are not alone because I am right there with them.

Okay, I believe my wash is done.


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