I don’t about you, but I’ve definitely gotten weirder over the course of the pandemic. Or, more likely, I’ve become more comfortable inhabiting exactly how weird I already was.
For me, this has really meant going all-in on my Indiana Jones and Star Wars fandom (which you already know all about if you’ve ready almost any of my other blog posts). But whatever your thing is, I feel like this year has been an opportunity enjoy that thing without censure. If you had a private hobby of cross-dressing, you could have spent every day this year in drag and no one would be the wiser. I think that’s been one of the gifts of this time. All of those parts of ourselves that we keep hidden from others haven’t needed to be hidden, because in quarantine there is no one you have to hide them from.
I’ve been a fan of Indiana Jones since I was a kid. Through high school into college I wore and Indiana Jones style fedora almost everyday. But then, in my sophomore year, I started dating a girl who didn’t like it and who had a lot of hangups about being an ‘adult’ that she passed on to me. It wasn’t just her fault, but overtime my rabid childhood fandom was something that I became ashamed of and turned into a secret that only I knew about.
Then the pandemic hit.
First, I returned to Indiana Jones video games as a source of comfort and distraction. From that, I started researching and collecting aspects of the Indiana Jones costume – which was a great way to while away the hours, and give myself something to look forward to. My wedding? Postponed indefinitely. My sister’s wedding? Moved to Zoom. Christmas with my family? Not happening at all. Everything I was anticipating before the pandemic evaporated when travel and large group gatherings were deemed unsafe. But I could research Temple of Doom style leather jackets, place a custom order, and look forward to its arrival for weeks. The anticipation was as much or more of a gift than the actual jacket was. And once the jacket arrived, I could wear it around the apartment – I could wear the whole costume at once – and no one in the world (apart from my lovely, patient, encouraging fiance) would be the wiser. It was wonderful!
Over the course of this journey, I found other people who had the same interests I did. I joined fan forums. I found clothing designers who specialize in Indiana Jones or Star Wars costume reproductions. I found a community of people who had the same interests as me, and for whom these interests weren’t anything to hide but instead something to share and gather around. What’s more, the people who were the “weirdest” – like the guy who specializes in handcrafted reproductions of Star Wars blasters – were respected experts others sought out for their services or advice.
None of us are totally unique. Which means that whatever makes us weird probably also connects us to other people. Not to everyone, but to our tribe. The tribe of paperclip collectors, hair weavers, avant-garde jazz appreciators… you get the idea. Keeping our weird to ourselves doesn’t do anything but keep us isolated. So if we want to find our community we need to share our interests, our hobbies, our strange fascinations. We need to run up our freak flags so that all of us weirdos can find each other. Passion is an asset, and it’s better when it’s shared.