On Saturday My advice? Enjoy life being who you are

EVERYONE is a little bit odd. Or even weird. That is what I’d say to a nervous teenager who was feeling uncertain about themselves.

If they were to ask an old geezer like me for some sort of reassuring guidance about the crazy randomness of life, I’d reassure them that living within your own skin is something most of us only grow comfortable with over time. Perhaps you always know deep down that eccentricity is a part of everyone, everywhere – but somehow society directs you to believe there really is some kind of normality which should be adhered to if at all possible.

There isn’t. But it has taken me more than 60 years to know it. Certainly, I reckon I am out there on what is nowadays known as “the spectrum”. You have to be, to bare your soul on a regular basis in front of a large newspaper audience.

And let’s qualify all this by saying that some of the oddest people I have ever met have been the kind of folk you’d probably, at first glance, regard as being the most normal. Conversely, some of the most sane people I have met have been, on the face of it, the most eccentric.

I feel somewhat qualified to make such remarks because I’ve spent my working life as a journalist – and journalists tend to meet, engage with, and indeed interrogate more people than most. Politicians, for example, are generally among the weirdest individuals you’ll ever meet. They cover it up well with their suits, ties, and urbane good manners, but a great many of them have something vital missing that most people share: a sense of humility.

Just look at Liz Truss, who’s been strutting around the media trying to flog more copies of her book. If most of us had screwed up on such a massive scale, we’d be hiding in some remote mountain cave and not wanting to come out for years. But Ms Truss smiles knowingly, rolls her eyes, then blames everyone else for her downfall – and she does it without showing even the slightest trace of diffidence or embarrassment. In many people’s view, that is truly bonkers.

Same with her predecessor. If you attempted to add the word ‘humility’ to the name ‘Boris Johnson’, most reasonable people would burst out laughing.

I’m not being party political here. I’ve interviewed politicians of all creeds and have rarely met one who’s been willing to talk openly about cocking something up or generally failing rather than succeeding. Some have been nice, others nasty – it doesn’t matter – they just don’t do doubt. Which is odd, because most of us do.

Doubt, or uncertainty, is a trait shared by most individuals, so it lends itself to that mythical and unattainable thing called normality. Which is a pot at the end of the psychological rainbow. I don’t say that in a snide or unpleasant way. It fascinates me – and probably most of us – that we are all different.

Let’s take a mild, non-contentious, and relatively common example of collective oddness. I’ve known quite a few amateur thespians over the years, and what has always fascinated me is that so many of them are extremely quiet or shy people in what you might call ‘normal life’. Yet there they are, marching about in front of hundreds of strangers for a few nights of the year, bellowing the odds as they pretend to be someone else completely, like a murderer, a scheming tart, or a prolific womaniser.

I think it is wonderful. Why shouldn’t people spend some of their leisure time escaping into their alter-egos? But surely it is odd to be a silent wallflower for 98% of your life, only to become a raging bull for the remaining 2%?

Odd, but wonderful. No one would decry such a thing. It’s just the way some folk are. It’s colourful and entertaining, and it all adds to the rich tapestry of life. It doesn’t need explaining, or pointing out, or apologising for.

However, it seems a lot does nowadays. And I don’t like it. Which is maybe odd of me, but then, I admit to being a bit weird.

For example, I dislike this new trend that sees emails being signed with the name of the sender, immediately followed in brackets by (he, him) or (she, her).

If someone called Mr Brian Bulldog were to write to me, I wouldn’t need to have the name qualified with a ‘he, him’ because I’d guess Brian was probably a male of the species. Having said that, I realise other ‘identities’ are emerging in our oldfashioned world. But, just say Brian was transgender, it would make no difference to the way in which I’d reply to the email because I never base any of my messages on gender, preferring instead to treat everyone equally, simply as a fellow human being.

As I say, I am odd. So maybe I’m out of order feeling this way. And that is what I’d admit to an anxietyfilled teenager… Don’t worry about it, would be my advice. Be what you are and try to enjoy life being who you are. As long as you are kind, polite and don’t break the law, there are very few rights or wrongs.

Conversely, some of the most sane people I have met have been, on the face of it, the most eccentric