You Don’t Need To “Get It” To Get It
I regretted the message almost as soon as I sent it.
It’s just that I was so excited, so eager about a new fanfiction writing challenge - my first story in a long time not related to mental health advocacy, just something for fun - that I wanted to tell people all about it.
Most of the things I’m interested in, I’m able to share with other people. My friends enjoy seeing my cosplays, swapping recommendations for nerdy books and video games, and finding our next binge-worthy TV show. But I know that none of my friends are interested in Lord of the Rings like me, so I am usually determined to not share.
The only problem is, this is my fifth year participating in this fanfiction challenge, and it always makes my summer so much more fun to have a new story percolating in my head. For once, I wanted to try to share this joy with people - and so, I sent a message to my close friend Olive telling her about the story.
But in my excitement, I’d forgotten that she once told me that her first impression of me was that I knew too much about Lord of the Rings and might not want to be friends with her because she didn’t know. I thought of the fact that we have safe conversation topics that we both like, and that I shouldn’t want or need more than that.
In the end, though, I do need more than that sometimes. I sometimes need to share my joy with something that other people aren’t interested in, and throughout my life, I’ve tried to figure out how to share this with other people. It’s complicated, though - since I don’t want to push anyone away by being considered pushy, annoying, or weird.
I wished I could take back the message to my friend in the moment, and even more so after I saw that she read it but didn’t reply. I was embarrassed at showing my interest too openly, and at the same time, I wished I could do it even more. It’s a paradox that I know all too well, but thankfully, I was heading to bed soon, so I didn’t have too much time to sit around and think about it.
The next morning, I was pleasantly surprised to wake up to a message from Olive. She said that she didn’t know exactly what I was talking about (not a surprise, since I’d filled my initial message with details about characters and settings she didn’t know), but she created her own interpretation of my message and sent it back to me.
She sent me a Photoshopped picture of a romance novel (right on that, since I said it was a romance story) with elf ears added to the characters (right again, and always a safe bet, since elves tend to be my favorite characters). She’d added an emu to the background - which I find entertaining since I always include an emu in any work I write for the stage - and she scribbled my name on the cover.
As soon as I saw the picture, I couldn’t be happier.
It didn’t matter to me that she didn’t understand much about the characters. It didn’t matter to me that the Photoshop job was a little sloppy. The only thing that mattered was that she tried to understand and support what I was talking about because she knew how important it was to me.
When she came over later that day, she told me she’d been brushing up on her Lord of the Rings knowledge in case I ever wanted to talk about it. She was considering reading The Silmarillion for the same reason, and asked me if I had any tips about how to approach the generally intimidating book.
I was beyond honored that she would want to do something like that for me - especially when it feels sometimes like I’ve spent my whole life having to be interested in things “normal” people are interested in. To have someone go out of the way to accommodate an interest of mine made me feel seen and loved, and I told her as much while squishing her in a hug.
And then, just like it should be in friendships, I did things for her. I tried on clothes with her in a mock fashion show and watched clips from British comedians who I’ve never heard of. And we found common ground in a British comedy show with one of my favorite actors from the Lord of the Rings movies.
As a child, I never thought I’d get to have friendships where any effort would be mutual. I got so used to hiding my own interests and pretending to be interested in other people’s that it was such a relief to find a friendship where I don’t have to do that.
I’ve saved the picture - weird Photoshop and all. I’m going to keep it on my phone as a reminder that even when I am afraid of being weird or “too much,” there are people who love me for exactly who I am.
Ellie, a writer in the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.