Confessions Of The Most Awkward Dork On This Side Of The World

Photo by Josh Camahort

I have never been one of the popular kids in school. I was always one of the weirdos in the back of the room, laughing like a hyena at some lame joke, poring over books, squealing over hunky 90s boy bands, creating little mindless works of art or writing about the woes of an emotional teenager.

I never quite looked like one of the popular kids either. I danced ballet for years, but I never quite lived with that kind of grace. I took tennis lessons and went wall-climbing, but I was never built to be a jock. I was always the strangely tall, klutzy freak with a truckload of acne issues who struggled with her weight. Like everyone else, I went through this awkward phase. But unlike the rest of the world, I never grew out of it.

I dealt with the pressures of society like any struggling teenager would: I pretended not to give a damn, but I cared a lot about what people thought. Maybe I cared too much about what they thought. To a point, I tried to re-invent myself several times.

I lost a lot of weight due to some health concerns, and I embraced this change. I began to put on make-up and traded my old lady wardrobe for short shorts and flirty dresses. I started hanging out with cool crowds more than my nerdy friends, where drinking and partying became a nightly ritual. Me, with my insane allergy to all alcoholic beverages (that’s one shot red, two shots tipsy, three shots dead). I started smoking and loitering around campus became more important than doing well in my classes. When more guys started paying attention to me, I felt good because not many did when I was that awkward freak. There were also times, at the peak of my newfound persona, that I made up stories to make me more interesting. Stories that I later on paid a price for, but that experience brought me to this.

I am Kat, a 20-something weird girl with acne problems and weight issues who stands taller than most Filipinas… and Filipinos. After a year of letting myself slide, I’m only now trying to get back into shape. But I will never have the body of a Victoria’s Secret model. I like putting on make-up and I like wearing whatever makes me comfortable (including extremely high heels), but I will never be that beautiful head-turner who can make guys chase after her with a wink or a hair flip. I can converse well with you, but I will never be able to memorize the more intellectual details of literature or understand the nitty gritty of politics or quote scores and team standings on various sports. You can try pick-up lines on me, but I’m the freak who panics and doesn’t know how to respond. I like meeting new people in whatever way I can, at bars or on Tinder, but I don’t do hookups. I can rough it as well as the next adventurer, though climbing mountains or going through caves takes me more time than most people need. I struggle with self-esteem issues, and I don’t think that’s going away any time soon. I like to party but I can’t drink. I still believe in fairy tales but I no longer believe in happily ever afters (hello, jaded ex girlfriend!). I make a lot of mistakes. But I learn from them.

I am an ordinary woman with average intellect and above average dorkiness, but I am now comfortable with being just that. Because I have a good life and I’m surrounded by a lot of love. I am accepted in all my geeky glory by my lovely family and my awesome friends, from the nerdy crowd to the cool party-goers, from the boys who treat me like one of the boys, to professional colleagues who became friends, to everyone in between.

I am a dork. And that isn’t a bad thing. Because being a dork is what makes me, me. And if being a dork means I'll spend the rest of my life alone (I know, too early to be this cynical, right?) then at least I'm now happy about spending the rest of my life with just me.

"The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair." – Audrey Hepburn