Alphabet Soup – Quirky

I have spent my entire life being called weird, quirky, strange. As I grew up the names continued with additional names like Maura the bora, Ice Queen, Queen of the Dead. I was used to it. The saying 'sticks and stones can break my bones but names will never hurt me' was somewhat true.

But the names did hurt. I tried not to let it show but it was hard sometimes. I tried not to cry in front of anyone. I cried myself to sleep quite a few nights. I spent a great deal of my time alone and that helped. I didn't have any friends.

I always had trouble interacting with others. I was always reading. At my boarding school in France, I would rather be by myself reading a book while the other children were playing. I often looked up to see what they were doing but I did not engage with them.

At home before I went to the boarding school, I often sat in the library and read while my father did the same thing. My father shared his books with me and we often discussed them in great detail. My mother always knew where to look if she needed to find us, the library.

I wasn't invited to the parties or social gatherings at my boarding school. I was determined that I would be alone and just continued reading and pursing activities that interested me. Things that I could do alone.

At school the day after our career day, all of the students had to standup and tell each other what career they wanted to pursue. After I gave my statement, stating that I loved science and that I would like to be a medical examiner, and speak for the dead, all of the other students laughed at me. I left the classroom in tears.

The bell rang a few minutes later and I didn't go to my next class, I went to my dorm room. I was fortunate that I didn't have a roommate as none of the other girls wanted to room with the 'quirky' girl.

Years later, I graduated from Harvard Medical School with honors. I had excelled in school and skipped several grades in high school, undergrad and my graduate studies. I was 20 years old when I began my residency. I selected Massachusetts General as my hospital of choice for my residency as I wanted to live in Boston.

I relocated to San Francisco after my residency and for three years I suffered as I didn't make any friends and I found myself wanting to move back to Boston. Boston was my home. My parents still had their house there and visited from time to time. My work was flawless and I had made quite a name for myself but I wasn't happy.

I put in my notice at work and moved back to Boston. After being in Boston for a few months I was contacted by the Governor's office and he offered me a position that I couldn't turn down.

When I joined the BPD as the Chief, Medical Examiner, I hoped that things might change. Maybe I could make some friends, or at least one. One friend would be nice. I didn't really know what it was like to have a friend. I had cousins that from time to time I associated with growing up but they all thought I was weird and I didn't really click with any of them.

One of the first people I met at BPD was Detective Jane Rizzoli. Jane and I became friends rather quickly. I was offended at first when she laughed at me for something I said. She said my comment was weird and that I talked a lot. She said I was quirky but she also said that she loved that about me.

I didn't know how to feel about that. Others had called me quirky and wanted nothing to do with me but here was Jane, laughing as she said I was quirky but staying and keeping me company.

Maybe being quirky wasn't such a bad thing after all. I remembered thinking, every person is different and maybe my being quirky didn't offend Jane. I mean she wasn't laughing at me, she was laughing with me. Jane was such a positive light in my life. Her enthusiasm was contagious. I felt happier when she was around.

Over the next few months, Jane introduced me to her family and they loved me. After over thirty years of being made fun of I have finally found my people. The Rizzolis accepted me quirks and all. Most days now found me with a smile on my face and surrounded by people that wanted to spend time with me. People that did not laugh at me but rather laugh with me.

I am so happy that I moved back to Boston and that Jane Rizzoli came into my life. Sticks and stones might break my bones but with Jane and the Rizzoli family in my corner names will never hurt me ever again. I guess the moral for this life lesson for me is with the right people in your life, it is okay to be quirky.