There’s a song I’ve been digging these last few months, but I really only read — and understood — the lyrics just a few short days ago. One of the lines starts as “maybe I’m a different breed” and after hearing — then reading — the line, I began to think about how much that line meant to me.
To say the least, I’ve always felt different than my family; almost like I didn’t belong. And for the longest time, it bothered me. But as I grew older, I began to embrace my differences. I’ve come to enjoy that I’m not necessarily like them. Sure there are many strong similarities I share with both my mother and my father, but for the most part, I feel I approach, and think about, things quite differently than the both of them.
As I was driving home from my parents last night after an almost-heated discussion around gender roles and parenting, I began thinking again about that line again — maybe I’m a different breed.
Maybe I’m a different breed.
And I felt myself regain my calmness, my coolness. I embrace my differences a lot more these days and can appreciate when I realize I’m doing just that.
The line after “maybe I’m a different breed” is “maybe I’m not listening.” When I read this line originally, I thought the artist was saying he was not listening as to not actually paying attention to them.
Again, as I was driving home I thought about this line, too — maybe I’m not listening.
Maybe I’m not listening.
Suddenly what this line meant to me changed. Maybe I’m not listening because I’m a different breed. Because I know I’m a different breed. I’m embracing my differences and am confident making my own informed decisions.