You’re not coming in

These the words that would ring in my ears throughout my youth. At school, the boys on prefect duty, forever blocking my way. At university, the bouncer outside a bar or club. Amongst peers, the young man intent on belittling me, and isolating me completely.

In those days, it would leave me distraught. I was so bitter, raging against the world. For the whole of my youth, I felt that I was being excluded from everything, forever the misfit, rejected. In selecting teams for a game of football, I would always be picked last. Amidst a crowd, I would be the one on the far periphery, completely ignored.

I suppose it’s no surprise that in the end I went my own way. Perhaps all of those experiences were a blessing in disguise, enabling me to hold to a path far away from the clamour of the thronging crowds. Perhaps it was just training for my soul, enabling me to take up the lonely road. Perhaps I was being to taught how to swim against the tide.

That bitterness of youth has left me now. Today I am capable of seeing that there was goodness in all I experienced back then. It was a probably a good thing that I wasn’t allowed in, after all.

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