I used to disguise myself as normal. I had convinced myself that this was my only hope for dealing with the outside world, and without the security blanket provided by my disguise I was almost non-functional. It made it possible to see and be seen, but I was living a lie and I knew it.
With time, I came to accept the truth. With that acceptance came a certain poise and confidence, which allows me to wear my weirdness proudly and leave the disguise in the closet. I know I am happier for that, and am probably saner as well. I certainly am proud to no longer live the lie.
But I’m still keeping a secret.
Not all of my success is my own. I may strut the stage as if I really all that, but I fear that someday the truth will come out.
The magic spatula will orchestrate my turnover.