The Teacher and I were talking on the way to seminary this morning. (We do that sometimes. Another way in which we are *gasp* not normal.)
She recounted an incident I didn't remember. At a mutual (Wednesday night) activity, everyone was sitting on the floor. I and one of my friends (she was the kind of friend you feel certain you always knew and you were just waiting to meet all your life) were rolling on the floor laughing helplessly about some joke one of us had told. (Knowing us, one of us told it, the other built on it, and we collaborated until there's no telling who started it.)
And the Teacher said that she saw that a lot of the other girls were giving us sideways looks, that translated as "What do you think you're doing?" with lots of snobbish sniffing. The Teacher said she couldn't tell if I didn't notice or if I didn't care, and I don't remember this so I can't enlighten her.
And she said that it was an incident like this that led one of my favorite leaders to say "Peaches lives in a different world than us, and she has more fun."
Stop for a moment and let the warm fuzziness sweep over you.
This is how I am with all compliments. If you tell me I'm pretty I'll thank you and smile and not really believe you. If you tell me I'm smart I'll smile and say "I know". And I might thank you. But if you tell me that I'm weird, strange, abnormal, or otherwise different, whether you intend it as a compliment or not, I will treasure that comment forever because I know that you've seen me- not my clothes or my face, but me- and recognized who I really am. Even if you don't like that person much, or understand her at all.
And I like to be recognized.