the rise of the quirkster.*

* weird kid in class that will occasionally bust out singing songs from Titanic or have a week long crush on a guy because he has nice arms.

Hello. I'm Rebecca a 22-year-old lass from Birmingham. I'm an iddy biddy, all five foot and one inch of me and with three sisters each with their own lovely personalities I think from the word go I've had to fight for attention. Not really on purpose, christ no. Nothing I've ever intended to do, but I think it's finally time I accepted and loved my inner (and probably in your face) quirkster.

Over the years we've loved the quirky girl in films and sitcoms. Friends bought us Phoebe Buffay or as she'd like to be Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock and most recently Zooey Deschanel who is just as outrageous as her on-screen character Jess from New Girl. Even us Brits have the odd loveable odd 'un. Miranda Hart. Yes her show is staged but if you are a fan you know it's based on her life so there. How can I forget John JD Dorian from medical sitcom Scrubs with his constant inner monologue and love for appletinis?

I sing out loud. I dance in public (only if I'm with someone, I wouldn't do it if I was alone, dur). I talk crap.  I read tea leaves in a wine glass without tea leaves in it. I make a tit out of myself but I embrace it.  But I am (can I say this about myself?) quite intelligent, mature, ambitious, loving and kind and hilarious and not just when you're laughing at me. For a long time I refused to believe I wasn't normal and that I was odd because I always thought it meant being locked away in a white jacket and I really can't wear white because I'm pale. It was only when I found my old Bebo and my old Myspace and old diaries, yes I was a bore, aged 15 and stalked paperboys, that I realised I have always been this way and always will be. I've matured over the years, I'm wise and headstrong but I'm a crazy bag of crazy cats.

You shouldn't be ashamed of the person you are and shouldn't feel the need to pretend to be anything else. There is nothing wrong with unleashing your true self on to the world. Normal is boring. Nobody remembers boring. People might think 'Oh dear lord what is she doing' when I walk around work doing the mom shuffle dance but it's who I am. I can control her, sort of. She's usually at her best when on dates. Phoebe found Mike who loved her. Where's my Mike Crapbag?

It seems there are so much of us now and that being weird is the new cool thing. The new tamagochi or the new bubble back pack. So much of us that I have given us a collective name, the quirksters. In fifty years we will look back in fondness as we describe to our grandchild how we once made a sex joke when having a job interview and how we made up a dance routine in the middle of a pub on a quiet Tuesday afternoon.
There is a fine line to being a kooky kid and being a maniac though guys, don't run around the city centre in your batman pyjamas singing I believe I can fly.

Don't create a quirky personality. It's just as weird as me pretending to be normal. If you can't love yourself how can you expect anybody else to. Confidence is sexy. Purrr. Wave your freak flag with pride.