Fitting In

Not once in my 23 years have I ever felt like I fit in anywhere. Not at school, not at university, not in any of my jobs, not in my family and not with my friends.

In junior school, I didn’t fit in because my Mam stuffed me in frilly dresses until I was 11 whilst everyone else was wearing trackies. This resulted in me being picked on, and then retaliating by refusing to wear dresses again until I was fifteen.

In senior school, I didn’t fit in because I didn’t get pocket money so I couldn’t buy clothes that everybody else had set as the trend.

I never fitted in because I had older parents than everyone else. Once somebody thought they were my grandparents! I am not ashamed of having older parents; it was one more factor that made me different.

In college, I became an outcast because of my anorexia, First year; I curled into myself for protection. I was quiet, a shadow of my former self. I was snappy and moody, obsessed with my eating disorder, unaware of anything happening around me. Second year, I was a prisoner in my own home, only allowed out for ‘good behaviour’ and a few college lessons. I was the girl known as anorexic Rachel.

In University, I didn’t fit in as I was attempting to find the real Rachel again. Who I was, what my dreams were, whether or not I wanted to let go of anorexia, my safety blanket. I spent the first two years avoiding being around people at lunch time. I didn’t lead a party lifestyle, I was too weak and I didn’t know how to interact with people my own age.

In my first bar job, I didn’t fit in because I hadn’t been around people my own age for too long. I’d never had a boyfriend; I couldn’t drive; I hadn’t been on a wild night out since I was 16.

Yet this job was my entry back into a young person’s life. I made more friends, I went out after work, I started attracting and being attracted to boys, I had a boyfriend, I passed my driving test.

However I still feel different to other people my age, even now. I’ve been through more traumatic events than the vast majority as well as experiences I never would have had, if I’d never been anorexic. I have conquered the illness that wanted me dead; I have battled to get treatment; I have had far too many blood tests; I have had to reveal personal thoughts to more people than I dare count. I have had doctors stare at me as if I’m insane; I have had people doubt my ability and state that I am going to fail college. I have had people shout out about my illness in the middle of a night club; I have witnessed my half sister and cousin being too scared to talk to me. I could go on and on. All these events account for my personality but they are also the reasons why I stand out.

My positive experiences from anorexia are something else that makes me different as none of my friends have done anything like them before. I have met my local MP; I have given presentations at the House of Commons, to professionals and to the youth parliament. I have been on the radio; I have been in magazines and newspapers. I recently appeared on the front page of my local paper. I have travelled to New Zealand twice on my own; I have met truly wonderful people who have also been anorexic. I have grown closer to my Mam; I am more aware of other people and their own emotions; I have been involved in re-vamping a national charity; I have been in a media summit. Again my list is endless. Again people can’t relate to it. Although I am no longer ill, anorexia will always be a part of my identity because it made me the person I am today.

I am unlike a lot of my peers in other ways too. I am a doer and a perfectionist. I don’t stay in bed all day; I don’t watch TV all the time (in fact I don’t even have a TV in my room!); I don’t want a boyfriend; I don’t want to go on a rave holiday. I like walks in the countryside, sketching, getting lost in a book, making scrap books, collecting foreign magazines, learning languages, day dreaming, being with my family and writing my diary. I like making cards for people or writing them random notes and letters to let them know I care. Yes, I like doing what other 23 year olds do – going out clubbing, getting drunk, going to the cinema, shopping, make-up, flirting, going on dates and being admired. There’s just more to me than that.

What it has taken me a long time to accept, is that it is okay to be different. I would rather be me, than be a clone of somebody else. I’d rather know that there is only one Rachel Lauren Cowey and there never will be anyone else quite like me. That’s something to be proud of. I am not going to be ashamed of myself anymore nor will I apologise for the person I am.