The Power of Embracing the Weird: Making Space for the Unusual, the Beautiful, and the True
Opinion Piece
The Rare Gift of Being Truly Witnessed
One of the greatest gifts anyone can offer a near-death experiencer is to hold space without judgment—to make room for their new self to emerge without being pushed, edited, or reduced.
In the midst of navigating my own integration journey, I decided to begin building a service—one designed to support other NDErs and also to help professionals understand how to safely, respectfully support those of us who’ve returned with heightened sensitivities, existential grief, intuitive gifts, and a deep need for authentic connection.
But creating a service also meant confronting something I had long avoided: marketing. Specifically, being on camera.
Videoing myself for social media felt excruciating. To be visible in this way—not as the old me, but as someone forever changed by death and return—felt like peeling off my skin in public. Marketing had never been my strong point, and the visibility of it all was overwhelming.
So, I hired a marketing professional. And to my surprise, one of the most healing interactions I’ve had post-NDE came from this unexpected place.
At first, I worried that exposure to NDE content might be upsetting, too confronting, or energetically invasive for them. I was mindful, checking in: “Is this okay for you?” “Does this content affect you?”
Their reply floored me—not because it was dramatic, but because it was genuinely reciprocal.
They thanked me for the check-in, and then they turned the lens around:
“How are you?”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“How can I make this feel safer for you?”
“Do you need anything from me?”
These were questions I had never been asked in relation to my NDE. Not by friends. Not by my doctor. Not by those I had once confided in. So often, when I shared something of the experience, the conversation became about the other person-their fear, their curiosity, their desire to understand. Rarely was I asked if I felt safe in the sharing.
But this person didn’t just see the content. They saw me.
And then they said something extraordinary, unprovoked:
“Be as weird as you like.”
It was simple, unforced, and sincere. And I felt it in my body—not just as permission, but as protection. What I heard beneath the words was:
“You have space here to be who you are, no matter how unusual that is.”
“You’re safe here.”
“I’ve got your back.”
That was one of the most helpful things anyone has ever said to me since my NDE.
It wasn’t about being spiritual. It wasn’t about understanding the afterlife. It was about holding space with integrity.
It was about allowing me to expand into the person I’ve become—without shrinkage, without translation, without performance.
It reminded me of what is possible when someone truly listens—not just to the story, but to the soul speaking it.
?Weird?
Weird.
A word so often used to isolate, to shame, to draw lines between what is "acceptable" and what is not. A label that tells someone: you’re too much, too different, too far outside the lines.
But what if weird isn’t a defect?
What if weird is simply originality uncensored?
What if weird is the birthplace of truth, creativity, magic, and transformation?
For near-death experiencers (NDErs), spiritual seekers, creatives, neurodivergent individuals, and those walking paths less travelled, the idea of being “weird” is often familiar—and not always welcomed. It can feel like exile. Like grief. Like being the only one seeing colour in a black-and-white world.
But in truth, weird is a gift. It’s the marker of one’s soul refusing to be edited. And the power of embracing the weird lies in reclaiming that soul fully, unapologetically, and out loud.
This opinion piece explores why embracing the weird is not only powerful—it’s essential. For healing. For authenticity. For creating a world that makes space for everyone, especially those who have returned from death bearing truths too vast for conventional language.
What Is Weird, Really?
The word "weird" comes from the Old English wyrd, meaning fate or destiny. In early use, it referred to the mysterious forces that shape human lives. The weird was not something to be dismissed—it was something to be respected.
Over time, society shifted its meaning. Weird became synonymous with strange, abnormal, freakish. It became a weapon used to enforce sameness, conformity, and fear.
Today, being called “weird” often comes with a sting. It implies that you’re not quite right. That something about you needs correcting.
But here’s the truth: what people call weird is often just what they don’t yet understand.
The Cost of Hiding Your Weird
For those who are intuitive, spiritually attuned, or neurologically divergent, hiding the weird often becomes a strategy of survival.
You learn to:
Water yourself down to fit in.
Stay silent when you sense or see too much.
Withhold your gifts to avoid ridicule.
Pretend you care about small talk, routine, or social scripts that feel lifeless.
But the cost is steep:
You begin to disconnect from your own soul.
You become exhausted by the effort of pretending.
You start to believe you’re wrong for existing the way you do.
And eventually, you find yourself living a life that is safe—but not true.
The Weird After an NDE
After a near-death experience, the weird often becomes impossible to hide.
Suddenly, you:
Hear or feel things that others don’t.
Have a heightened sensitivity to light, sound, emotion, and energy.
Can no longer tolerate superficiality.
Speak of love, connection, and consciousness in ways that others call "woo."
See through social masks, structures, and power dynamics that once felt normal.
You come back not just with insight, but with frequency. With a hum in your bones that doesn’t fit into conventional boxes.
And the world, largely, isn’t ready.
People expect you to return to who you were. But the person who died isn’t here anymore. And the person who came back is… weird.
Beautifully, cosmically, radically weird.
And that’s exactly as it should be.
Why Embracing the Weird Is a Spiritual Practice
Choosing to live your weird out loud is not rebellion—it’s devotion. It’s an act of alignment. A declaration that you will no longer abandon yourself to be palatable to others.
It is:
Saying yes to your truth, even when it’s inconvenient.
Valuing your inner guidance above external validation.
Trusting your visions, intuitions, and dreams—even when they don’t make “sense.”
Allowing your emotions, your artistry, your way of moving through the world to be valid, even if they’re not widely recognised.
Embracing the weird is not about being strange for the sake of it. It’s about no longer hiding the parts of you that were born to disrupt the status quo.
The Power in the Weird
Weirdness is often where your power lives. It’s where your:
Creativity
Intuition
Soul gifts
Sacred knowledge
Inner compass
...reside.
What the world calls weird is often what it most needs.
Visionaries are weird.
Artists are weird.
Healers are weird.
Mystics are weird.
Truth-tellers are weird.
Survivors who come back with strange light in their eyes are weird.
And they change the world—not by conforming, but by daring to stay different.
Creating Space for the Weird (In Ourselves and Others)
The real revolution is not just embracing our own weirdness—but creating space for others to do the same.
Here’s how:
1. Let Go of the Need to Explain Everything
Your weird doesn’t need to be packaged into something understandable. It doesn’t need a justification. You are allowed to be deeply felt, complex, mysterious.
Let others have their discomfort. Your job is to be real, not palatable.
2. Stop Apologising for Being Different
Every time you apologise for being “too much,” “too emotional,” “too sensitive,” you reinforce the idea that you are a problem.
You are not a problem. You are a possibility.
3. Seek Out Those Who Honour Your Unusualness
Find the ones who say:
“You’re safe to be yourself here.”
“I may not understand, but I believe you.”
“Be as weird as you like.”
These people are your sacred allies. Cherish them.
4. Offer the Same Permission to Others
When someone brings you something vulnerable, strange, or hard to explain, lean in. Say, “Tell me more.” Even if you don’t get it, honour their courage in sharing.
Your presence could be the space they’ve been waiting for.
A Personal Note on the Power of Permission
After my NDE, I felt like I’d been returned to Earth as a foreign being. I couldn’t relate to most conversations, daily routines, or cultural norms. My internal world was alive with presence, but my outer world felt like a stage play I no longer knew the lines to.
Then someone said to me—
“Be as weird as you like.”
And they meant it.
It was one of the most healing things anyone had said to me. Not because it made everything easier—but because it gave me space.
Space to stop performing.
Space to start expanding.
Space to be me.
I replied “Thank you, this feels good, finally I have an honest space to reside in”.
