When Being Different Starts to Feel Like Defeat
There are moments we start to question how we were made.
Why we think the way we do. Why we move slower, feel deeper, or see things others overlook.
It can feel as though something is wrong with us, as if we are missing the quality that makes other people fit easily into the world.But difference does not mean deficiency. The world has simply built a hierarchy of traits that serve its pace, not its purpose.
Then I came across a verse in the book of Job describing the ostrich, and I was struck by how much truth it held for those of us who move differently:
“The wings of the ostrich flap joyfully, though they cannot compare with the wings and feathers of the stork… Yet when she spreads her feathers to run, she laughs at horse and rider.”— Job 39:13–18
The ostrich and the stork both have wings, yet only one can fly. The other runs across the desert at forty miles an hour. Both were designed perfectly for their purpose, though neither can do what the other does.
The question is: which one are you trying to be?
The Ostrich’s Design
The ostrich is often used as a symbol of foolishness—too heavy to fly, too careless with its young, and not clever enough to survive without divine intervention.
Yet, that same ostrich can outrun a horse, defend itself with powerful kicks, and survive in extreme conditions where few others can.
The design isn’t broken, it’s different.
We live in a culture that measures worth through comparison. We want the intellect of the eagle, the grace of the swan, the reach of the stork.
We rarely stop to ask what would happen if the ostrich tried to fly instead of run. It would die of exhaustion.
Self-awareness is the antidote to that exhaustion. Knowing your own design—and living from it—is one of the highest forms of wisdom.
When “Fitting In” Becomes Self-Erasure
In one organization I worked for, “speed” and “innovation” were the ultimate measures of success. Everything was urgent. Everyone was expected to think fast, move fast, and deliver results even faster.
As an HR strategist, I noticed how this culture rewarded visible busyness over thoughtful execution. People were praised for quick decisions, even when those decisions created chaos later. There was little space for reflection, compassion, or learning.
At first, I tried to adapt. I forced myself to move at their pace. I spoke faster, worked longer, and said yes to everything. But over time, I felt the quiet erosion of clarity. Mistakes multiplied. The team was stressed and disconnected.
Eventually, I began to question what kind of “innovation” comes from exhaustion. I introduced mindfulness practices and encouraged intentional pauses in meetings—simple rituals to restore focus.
The reaction was not what I expected.
“Too slow.” “Not urgent enough.” “We’ll lose our edge.”
In that moment, I realized I may be an ostrich among storks. My way of thinking wasn’t valued because it didn’t look like movement. Yet it was the kind of movement that could have saved us from burning out entirely.
The Quiet Cost of Abandoning Yourself
It’s easy to betray ourselves in the name of belonging. We start editing how you speak, what we value, even what we believe.
The slow unspooling of authenticity begins the moment we decide that fitting in is safer than being misunderstood. But authenticity has a way of calling us back. Sometimes through discomfort. Sometimes through failure.
For me, it came after a mistake that exposed the fragility of the culture I had been trying to fit into. That mistake was painful, but it was also clarifying. It reminded me that I was never meant to thrive in an environment built on fear and speed.I was meant to lead from reflection, not reaction.
When I returned to myself—my natural rhythm, my way of thinking, my quiet strength—I realized how much of my energy had been spent pretending to fly when I was made to run.
Embracing Difference as Divine Design
Every human being is designed for a certain kind of movement. Some thrive in motion and noise; others in stillness and thought. Both are necessary.
The stork and the ostrich are not in competition. They simply exist in different elements. The tragedy happens when the ostrich tries to leap into the sky or when the stork attempts to race across the desert.
The truth is, we all have our deserts and our skies. The challenge is learning to discern which one belongs to us.
Authenticity is not about rebellion or defiance; it’s about harmony with one’s nature. It is the alignment between what we are and what we choose to express.
Lessons From Alan Watts on the Symphony of Difference
Alan Watts once said that the universe functions like an orchestra. Every instrument has a sound that contributes to the whole. You cannot replace the violin with a drum or expect the flute to match the cello’s tone.
Likewise, society needs the thinkers and the doers, the intuitive and the analytical, the bold and the gentle. Each one fills a gap that no one else can.
But when we compare, we silence the music.
Inclusion, in its truest form, is not about tolerating differences; it’s about recognizing that we need them.
The introvert’s caution is as valuable as the extrovert’s enthusiasm, and the visionary’s risk is balanced by the strategist’s restraint.
When we begin to appreciate our difference as necessary, not as a flaw, we start to live from power rather than apology.
The Courage to Stay Aligned
Being authentic often feels lonely because it requires the courage to stand apart. Society praises individuality until it becomes inconvenient. People say, “Be yourself,” but what they often mean is, “Be yourself—just not like that.”
Staying true to your design demands discernment and faith. Not necessarily religious faith, but trust in the wisdom that created you. There is a quiet intelligence in the way life forms each of us. When you begin to trust that intelligence, the need to perform for approval fades.
Authenticity is not a performance; it’s a practice. It is the daily act of choosing to show up as yourself, even when the world tells you that another form would be easier to digest.
You Are Not Broken
The ostrich teaches us that wisdom isn’t always intellectual, and strength isn’t always visible.
You may not be the fastest thinker or the loudest voice in the room. You may take longer to understand, to heal, to create. But when your moment comes, you move with a depth that only self-awareness can produce.
You are not broken.You are built for a specific kind of excellence that may not be recognizable to those who are busy chasing another.
The world measures performance. God—or the quiet intelligence of life—measures purpose.
You were never meant to be everything to everyone. You were meant to be yourself, fully.
Reflection Prompt
- What part of yourself have you tried to suppress because it doesn’t fit the world’s pace or expectations?
- When do you feel most in alignment with who you truly are?
- What might it look like to honor that rhythm this week?
Call to Action
If this reflection resonates, share it with someone who’s learning to embrace their difference. Follow Ms. Normal for more conversations about authenticity, growth, and living with intention.
