That’s the quiet heartbreak of being a real “weirdo” in the age of performative weirdness. You find your people, your community of “others,” only to realize that half of them were just waiting for an invitation to the inner circle.

And once they get it, they’ll guard that door just as viciously as the people who used to lock them out. There’s no betrayal quite like watching someone build their personal brand on “being different” while mimicking every cruelty of the mainstream.

The system loves that kind of transformation story. It’s profitable, digestible, and easy to post about.

“Look how far they’ve come!” people say, conveniently ignoring that they only made it this far by stepping over the same kind of people they used to be.

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