Wonderfully Weird

When my wife attended the University of Illinois, she found herself intricately woven into an unbelievably tightly-knit group of friends.

They're a pretty diverse mix, each carrying their own quirks and idiosyncrasies. If not for my wife, I can guarantee I never would have found myself among such a group.

I'm dancing around this to be polite, but let's just go ahead and call them what they are: they're weird.

I promise that's not a slight; it's an endearing quality.

They are all so entirely and unapologetically themselves. They are nothing like one another, and yet they have formed an unbreakable bond between each member of their group. They are woven together so tightly and in a way only they can truly understand. At times, I find myself in awe of the large, wild, messy, and beautiful tapestry they've created.

With that said, I could not have felt more like an outsider when I first met them. I've made friends with some pretty weird people in my life, but until I met my wife's friends, I had never met any who were so social. Since when did weird people hang out in such large quantities? And when did they become so extroverted?

I know I'm certainly not what most people would consider "normal," but I really had no idea how to interact with these people. They made me tremendously uncomfortable (whether on purpose or by accident, I still have no idea).

Yet, in the years since that initial meeting, in the most unexpected ways, they've taught me lessons about friendship, individuality, support, and joy.

Truth be told, there are moments when I'm envious of my wife's bond with them. That's not to say that I lack amazing friends—quite the contrary. But there's something about her friend group that sets them apart: they possess an extraordinary capacity for support and celebration.

With them, every small victory, no matter how trivial, is met with thunderous applause. They have a knack for making each little accomplishment feel like a monumental triumph. Their enthusiasm knows no bounds, and they extend their celebrations to everyone in their circle, including me.

Despite not considering myself particularly close to any of them, I'm keenly aware that I have their unwavering support. Whether quietly or loudly, they're always cheering me on. It's a sentiment I've never quite experienced before—a genuine outpouring of encouragement and affection that can take place on any given Tuesday.

Their willingness to express their emotions openly is a breath of fresh air in my life where feelings (belonging to me and many of those around me) are often muffled by stoicism. My wife's friends wear their hearts on their sleeves and aren't afraid to show their excitement, joy, or love.

What strikes me most is their consistency. They're often the first to like my posts, the loudest advocates when promoting me to others, and they're pillars of encouragement when I'm struggling. Their consistency is even more impressive when you take into account that I am horribly guilty of regularly ignoring their messages of encouragement. It is not because I do not appreciate them, want them, or enjoy them, but rather because I have literally no idea what I'm supposed to do with them (I swear I'm emotionally stunted). Regardless of my behavior, their support is unwavering.

Yes, they're weird, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Their quirks and eccentricities have become a source of inspiration and gratitude in my life. They've taught me the value of embracing individuality, celebrating victories, and offering steadfast support to those we hold dear (even if I'm still getting the hang of emulating those behaviors).

So, to the wonderfully weird friends I now consider my own: thank you. Your support means more to me than I'll ever be brave enough to say aloud.

Love,

D