Niche brain

About a month ago, I was on a Discord call with someone I met on a neurodivergent Discord server. We added each other on Steam, and as they went through my library to find a game we could play together, they said something like, "WOW, you have so many niche games in your library. You have quite unique taste, eh?"

I imagine that for most of you reading this, it would be nothing more than "Oh yeah, I guess I like obscure stuff, haha", but to me? It stung to hear that. Not because it was some real jab at my taste or personality, but because I don't like being niche. Don't get me wrong, I think it's nice to like something a bit fringe or esoteric. Heck, I'd say it's actually important to not be all "pop music and Matcha tea from Starbucks". But when your hobbies, interests, and preferences start to feel like they're isolating you from people? It sucks.

I feel like for most of my life I didn't really have hobbies, at least not in the way other people seemed to. I played a lot of video games, but that was more of an escape from difficulties at home and at school than something I did for fun. I was in a boys' choir for about a year, but I had to drop out to focus on school.

And whenever I did like something for real, it was either what everyone else around me liked, or some niche shit nobody else cared about. There wasn't much in between.

Nobody ever watched the same YouTubers or played the same video games as I did. Sure, I had plenty of online friends, but as a kid, those didn't always feel like real friendships. I mean, what am I even saying? Can you consider anything real at the age of 13? I don't know... I'm just a little sad that I didn't get to hang out with my kind of people growing up. Everyone just seemed to naturally find their tribe, and I always felt like the odd one out. I always felt like there was something missing. Like I was missing some manual to life everyone around me seemed to be born with.

Frankly, I feel this was also caused by me being a late bloomer. I'm still thinking if and how my life could have been different if I got diagnosed sooner and got the proper medication I needed. It genuinely pains me anytime my mother says something like "I'm sure you'll grow out of this eventually anyway" or "You'll find a way to not need those pills any more." I'm sure she means well... Or am I just telling myself that? If you tell someone to stop saying things like that, and they still do, isn't that malicious? Is this some form of her trying to drop the guilt she might be feeling?

Whatever the answer is, I think this should be a different blog post, though.

I'm not upset with the fact I like obscure stuff. I'm upset that I don't have any people to talk with about them. Again, just like when I was younger, I do have some online friends whom I cherish dearly, but it's not the same when you can't feel their presence in front of you. It's not the same as going out with your group to play disc golf together. It's not like going to the pub every Friday to talk shit about work and grab their arm as you're trying not to collapse on the floor from laughter (and intoxication).

I think the silver lining is that I survived. Living as myself can be hellish at times, but that same brain also gives me a perspective on things most people don't get.