I’m not everyone’s cup of tea or coffee…..

I’ve heard snobbish, reserved, arrogant and some other not so pretty adjectives associated with my name. Over a period of time I have even come to enjoy my “villainous” and “notorious” personality. What difference should it make to me about what people think, so long as I know who I am? Just to share a secret, I was not born with this wisdom, it came to me with age, wherein I learnt to gracefully accept the truth.

I have my own set of values I like to live by. Not everyone will embrace or accept the same. Should it really matter to me or upset me enough to change my path? The only newness my maturity dictates is I listen to all, trust a few and take the final decision based on what I feel is correct. My younger self had a different perspective and outlook but the mature me has begun seeing things through a slightly altered lens.

Like countless others, I grew up with a strict set of rules about what is right, what is wrong, what should be embraced and what ignored. These were mostly hand me down legacies from our parents who in turn inherited the bundle from the generation before them. Over time a lot which was held sacred across generations has diluted enough to give us a taste of a new found freedom of choice. This is where the disconnect originates and me, the tea or coffee, started to taste different to many.

All around us, those ready to judge and take potshots at the slightest provocation are numerous. Most do not even bother to know the real story. At times I feel this should qualify as the “national hobby”. The number of our real friends will always be far smaller than the list which shows up on the Zuckerberg marvel, Facebook. The key here is to learn to live life by our rules, so long as said rules are not causing harm to anyone. Find those who will accept us for who we are. Those who want to change us to be who they think we should be, should be given a wide berth. Or maybe one can try asking them to change. My younger self would have been tempted to try this, the new mature me is happy to do the waltz in my own orbit (this despite my two left feet). Believe me, it’s a happier place to be in, guaranteed.

I may still be showered with more not so pretty adjectives going forward. I’m beginning to quite like the experience of making my own personal collection of them, building my own personal library. Regardless, I’ve realized, I would like to be my own person and that person is not perfect.

I may not be everyone’s cup of tea or coffee not because of the way I am but because not everyone has good taste. Tastebuds cannot be developed in any classroom setting, they have to be indulged in, inculcated and nurtured over time.