I've been reading "Women who run with the wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes and last night I read the chapter about the Ugly Duckling and how it never really fit in anywhere and how this is the epitome of the Wild Women.
I was nodding so vigorously my head nearly fell off because that was me.
All through my child hood I felt like I didn't fit in.
When I was in my teens I was convinced that I must have been adopted even though I looked exactly like my brothers and sisters and was often mistaken as a twin of one of my sisters.
I just felt alien, other, different, wrong.
I also couldn't stand my name - or any variations of it. So I tried on different names and settled on my initials for a time.
I thought things would get better when I left home. They didn't.