I just don't fit in

In high school, I felt comfortable pretty much anywhere, anytime, except for I'd guess dances and the guys locker room (never went to either, except for an undance for cinco de mayo that people only went to for the extra credit, let's be honest). I was friendly with teachers from all the departments, I participated in sports for two years, I loved band... As much as I try to have harsh feelings towards that ugly brick building with weird Lenapedes (multi-legged bugs), long days of classes, and gross color schemes, that building accepted me. I was comfortable hiding out in the short stacks (until we were kicked out. So much sadness, I know), participating in all-day labs, skipping gym on lame half days before the holidays to go to a friend's art class... 

But here at BYU, there's a certain pressure to be selective about what you do, and with all the buildings specializing in different subjects, sometimes there's an uncomfortable feeling when you're in a building that is for a career you know you'll never want to go into. I feel a little bit strange using the vending machines in the McKay (education) building, I feel awkward wearing jeans in the RB (fitness), and I feel like my backpack is a little bit to big, my stride a little bit too long, and my scarf not quite fashionable enough in the HFAC (music). And the Tanner building (business)? Well, it's undefinable, but let's just say you won't find me hanging out in there.

Sometimes I feel like that green leaf. I mean, I'm still a leaf just
 like everyone else, but I'm different. Although I guess in this
 analogy it would look like I'm the one who needs to change to
become like everyone else. I'm now regretting being the green
leaf because, c'mon, who wouldn't want to be an awesome red leaf?

Why must I always make dumb metaphors? Why?

People say that they want to be a nonconformist, but a lot of that I have to outright reject. That's why marriage is attractive, because you get to know someone deeply and intimately, and he/she will know you in the same why (why marriage scares me...), but you can't gain that connection without some common interests and values. Certainly we shouldn't all be the same, but there's a reason why engineers are a little bit weirded out when they see people from humanities majors in the Clyde (engineering) building.

You really want to be that guy. Really.

It's interesting that I feel a little bit uncomfortable in these buildings. I'm actually quite involved in music, I'm physically active, and there's a decent possibility that I'll end up teaching (although let's not get ahead of ourselves). It's not like I'm uncomfortable with the subjects, I guess I just perceive the difference in the people; I see that what they want to do is not what I want to do. And on some fundamental level, it matters.

When I entered college, I wanted a challenge. I wanted to have classes that I feel completely inadequate in, so that I would know how to overcome that. Because although I wouldn't wish for anything less than excellent grades, I know that if I got something less than what I'm used to that it would mean a lot more to me than all the other grades, because you had better know that I worked my butt off for that seemingly disappointing grade. One of my favorite reddit posts (not that I can really say that, since I've only spent like 20 minutes on reddit, ever) gives advice to people entering college, although I really think it can apply to anyone. Part of the post says [talking about people who attend MIT], "students that are successful look at that challenge, wrestle with feelings of inadequacy and stupidity, and begin to take steps hiking that mountain, knowing that bruised pride is a small price to pay for getting to see the view from the top. They ask for help, they acknowledge their inadequacies. They don't blame their lack of intelligence, they blame their lack of motivation."

I always assumed that I'd find that challenge in my engineering classes, but maybe I won't. Maybe I have to face my feelings of inadequacy about being a musician, a runner (snicker snicker), a social person, and whatever else. Maybe that's what I have to do if I want to (metaphorically) climb some mountains.