Outliers

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we prioritize people. We have this ability to pick and choose where to put people in our lives based on what purpose we think they’ll fulfill. There are all these titles we create to reassure ourselves that our actions are appropriate, take the friend category--“casual friends,” “work friends,” “good going out friends,” “obligatory friends (often in-laws) we pretend to like,” “obligatory friends we actually like,” “close friends,” “family friends,” “friends of friends,” etc. This can be a fun but tricky process, especially as our relationships are constantly changing. Although some people are pretty set in terms of how we feel about them, there are those that move from one “box” to another or encompass several at once. What’s almost inconceivable to me though is when there is no right box. I dread that unsettling experience of realizing that a person must be moved and knowing I don’t have the proper spot yet. These people make me rethink my mental process, wonder how I couldn’t predict where they’d end up correctly. These are my outliers.

Maybe it’s me acting above it all, but I’ve always thought that people act predictably (myself included), and therefore think that prioritizing isn’t all too difficult. You do however have to know yourself fairly well to guess how any given relationship will function. Maybe that’s why some people have a hard time with it, because they can’t predict their own behavior let alone someone else’s…Or maybe everyone in the world isn’t like me, and they don’t perceive pigeonholing people as a sport. Maybe people see one thing they like about someone and just decide that’s enough to go for some kind of relationship? I don’t write many checklists, but I have mental ones going constantly when I meet someone new. What music does he like? Is he way too into sports? Is he not into sports enough? Does he always dress like that? What’s that tattoo about? Does he read? If so, what? I don’t attack people with questions, but I’m blunt and curious and cautious all at once. I remember quirks and mannerisms over stories that prove to impress. There’s a baseline; just be genuine. I think we all have that one trait we’re waiting to spot until we give the green light.

Once you let someone in though, you have to be prepared for what might follow. I’m never ready for an outlier. I think it mostly has to do with feeling like the roles are reversed, and my vulnerability begins to show. As much as I’d like to claim that I’m this spontaneous force to be reckoned with, I’m actually much more of a control freak. I hate having a tight schedule, but I do crave structure and balance in other aspects of my life. When it comes to relationships, I’ve always wanted to be the dominant person, to know that I can control where it goes and how it gets there. However, they make me realize that I’m incapable of such control. This relationship doesn’t follow my rules. You can’t read them, you overanalyze them, you scratch your head and wonder how many others are doing the same.

I’ve known a few outliers over the years, but just recently a whole handful of them jumped into my life at once. There is a family that used to live very close and now lives very far that means a whole lot to me. When we first met, we were friendly neighbors that gave each other eggs when they needed them or picked up packages when on vacation. Now if something were to happen to any of them, I’d be on the next plane to see them. It’s amazing to think that we spent four years as the former and become the latter in just this last year. The three kids are creative, energetic, sensitive, silly, and of course completely adorable. The mom is pretty, smart, and sweet with all good things going for her. The dad is kind and caring and always able to steer the family in the right direction (even if that direction is 600 miles south of here). Even now I'm using super generic words to describe them, because nothing I feel fits any words the way I want.

I can actually pinpoint when they became outliers—It was the day I yelled at their oldest after losing her temporarily in a grocery store. She had wandered off and when I found her, I think she was as shocked as I was by my reaction. Sheer panic set in, and I found myself hugging and yelling at her simultaneously. I grabbed her hand and didn’t let it go until we got in the car. I know I overreacted; I’m pretty sure that until that day I had never even raised my voice to them. Then we were in the car driving home, and I was looking at them in my rearview realizing just how much they meant to me. I thought about them, and their parents too, how they all snuck into my heart somehow. I hadn’t let myself feel so attached to them, but it had happened regardless. I never thought I’d care about another family so much, but I do love them and am missing them already. And although I don’t have some category in my mind to confine them to, they hold a new place that’s entirely theirs.

Having just seen Peter and the Starcatcher, I have in my mind—People say goodbye and soon enough, they start to forget. And maybe they will, I can’t say, but I know I won’t. Who says in life there has to be all these beginnings, middles, and ends? Why does distance and time always have to equal loss of some kind? I think life is a continuous series of events and that one thing often affects another, but nothing ever just stops. Time’s a test that way, never an ultimatum. I won’t forget, because I choose not to. I know I’ll grow and change and learn new things, but I’ll always have them in the back of my mind. Sometimes you have to look back to move forward, and I know they’ll be a constant force pushing me towards something great instead of holding me back.

“It’s supposed to hurt—that’s how you know it meant something!”

“Things are only worth what we’re willing to give up for them.”


What a wise 13 year old that Molly Aster is.