Failures, Mistakes, and Misunderstandings
"I have found that most people who've achieved great success also have experienced some great defeat." -- Maria Shriver.
I recently spent some time with someone I hadn't seen in years. He made some comments about "me" based entirely on his impression of me from TEN years ago. This bothered me greatly because it made me feel like the last ten years of progression were of no consequence to him.
What he, and no one else really, knows:
Ten years ago I was 15. I hated high school and high school hated me. I literally had one friend, and thus I spent most lunch periods eating in the girls bathroom, humiliated in my loneliness because I had no one to eat lunch with. Nearly all of my friends from middle school had gone to a different high school and I had to start new, with my one friend, and for a girl with debilitating shyness, that is a death sentence.
Like any other teenage girl I struggled with self-image and self-esteem. I was horribly depressed; of course no one knew this, because I seemed like the kind of girl who had it all put together. For a fifteen year old I was actually very pretty. I had pretty skin (ironically skin problems didn't creep up on me until my 20s), I had pretty hair, I was tall and thin, but not too thin. I recently had my braces taken off so my teeth were pretty and straight. I had extreme levels of maturity and a firm sense of right and wrong, especially when it came to how others should be treated. I got good grades and teachers liked me. These things naturally translated to everyone else as self-righteousness and arrogance.
I was the girl who "did everything right" and thus won the general dislike of peers and the deep love and admiration of adults. By the time I was 18 every adult in my life had my future planned out for me.
I distinctly remember my graduation dinner; I was surrounded by parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles -- the topic of discussion: My future. I would attend Utah State University, study nutrition/ dietetics (I did remarkably well in such subjects in high school); probably in my junior year I'd meet a nice, older boy (who would probably be working on his master's degree); he would be established and almost done with school; we'd get married; I'd graduate and we'd have babies-- redheaded babies.
I just sat there, stunned that this is who I was to these people.
A few weeks later some church leaders took me to breakfast as a congratulations and farewell. They then began to discuss my future using nearly word for word the description my family had given: 1.) USU 2.) Junior year = older guy 3.) Married 4.) Graduated 5.) Redheaded babies. I just sat there, silently shocked at how my self image could be so drastically different from how everyone else saw me. In my mind I saw myself travelling the world, building houses, working with impoverished children, eating pastries in European cafes, discussing literature, art and politics; never living anywhere longer than a couple of years.
But, that's not practical and it's not redheaded babies.
I moved to Logan, Utah to attend Utah State, I took nutrition classes. Then something amazing happened: I met people just like me, who had no expectation of me. I soon realized that I had no real interest in my classes and either dropped them or just stopped going.
I joined a humanitarian group and went to Romania, I travelled with friends, I did what I wanted and how I wanted, and that did not include school.
It was liberating and exciting. I was me and I liked it and I didn't care if I did things just right, much to the chagrin of my parents.. They, desperately wanting a better life for me than what they had themselves, begged me to go to classes, but I didn't. I'd sign up every semester and then drop the classes within the first few weeks. After some time my academic advisor noticed my pattern, called me in and let me know that if I didn't straighten it out I'd be out.
I didn't much care. I just went back to Romania.
For all that "wasted" time I don't regret a minute of it. Yes, I'm 25 and just recently became a senior at UVU, but hey, I just finished my third year, so even though it doesn't seem like it, I'm right on schedule, especially considering I have two majors, I'm pretty impressive.
Deep down, I'm still that girl who'd rather be travelling the world, doing something "great" with my life, I've just realized that getting an education can help that lifestyle along. So, I'm working, learning and biding my time until I can be off again (though, admittedly, I wouldn't mind some redheaded babies, I'd dress them up as leprechauns and Lucille Ball for Halloween).
As I sat there, listening to this blast from my past describe me, I felt sucked back in time and had to remember what it was like to be defined in a completely inaccurate way. I wasn't a fan.
I'm nothing like the girl itching to get out of high school, just like you aren't the 15 year-old version of yourself (hopefully anyway).
Give people the right to their own experiences. Think about how far you've come and how thankful you are for your blunders and set backs. I now know that I'm not the mean, self-righteous, intimidatingly cold know-it-all that everyone thought I was.
I know that I'm kind, thoughtful, accepting, insightful, intelligent and interesting. Those things deserve to be recognized in me, just like your positive & defining attributes deserve to be seen in you. Let's not be 15 year-olds anymore.
What he, and no one else really, knows:
Ten years ago I was 15. I hated high school and high school hated me. I literally had one friend, and thus I spent most lunch periods eating in the girls bathroom, humiliated in my loneliness because I had no one to eat lunch with. Nearly all of my friends from middle school had gone to a different high school and I had to start new, with my one friend, and for a girl with debilitating shyness, that is a death sentence.
Like any other teenage girl I struggled with self-image and self-esteem. I was horribly depressed; of course no one knew this, because I seemed like the kind of girl who had it all put together. For a fifteen year old I was actually very pretty. I had pretty skin (ironically skin problems didn't creep up on me until my 20s), I had pretty hair, I was tall and thin, but not too thin. I recently had my braces taken off so my teeth were pretty and straight. I had extreme levels of maturity and a firm sense of right and wrong, especially when it came to how others should be treated. I got good grades and teachers liked me. These things naturally translated to everyone else as self-righteousness and arrogance.
I was the girl who "did everything right" and thus won the general dislike of peers and the deep love and admiration of adults. By the time I was 18 every adult in my life had my future planned out for me.
I distinctly remember my graduation dinner; I was surrounded by parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles -- the topic of discussion: My future. I would attend Utah State University, study nutrition/ dietetics (I did remarkably well in such subjects in high school); probably in my junior year I'd meet a nice, older boy (who would probably be working on his master's degree); he would be established and almost done with school; we'd get married; I'd graduate and we'd have babies-- redheaded babies.
I just sat there, stunned that this is who I was to these people.
A few weeks later some church leaders took me to breakfast as a congratulations and farewell. They then began to discuss my future using nearly word for word the description my family had given: 1.) USU 2.) Junior year = older guy 3.) Married 4.) Graduated 5.) Redheaded babies. I just sat there, silently shocked at how my self image could be so drastically different from how everyone else saw me. In my mind I saw myself travelling the world, building houses, working with impoverished children, eating pastries in European cafes, discussing literature, art and politics; never living anywhere longer than a couple of years.
But, that's not practical and it's not redheaded babies.
I moved to Logan, Utah to attend Utah State, I took nutrition classes. Then something amazing happened: I met people just like me, who had no expectation of me. I soon realized that I had no real interest in my classes and either dropped them or just stopped going.
I joined a humanitarian group and went to Romania, I travelled with friends, I did what I wanted and how I wanted, and that did not include school.
It was liberating and exciting. I was me and I liked it and I didn't care if I did things just right, much to the chagrin of my parents.. They, desperately wanting a better life for me than what they had themselves, begged me to go to classes, but I didn't. I'd sign up every semester and then drop the classes within the first few weeks. After some time my academic advisor noticed my pattern, called me in and let me know that if I didn't straighten it out I'd be out.
I didn't much care. I just went back to Romania.
For all that "wasted" time I don't regret a minute of it. Yes, I'm 25 and just recently became a senior at UVU, but hey, I just finished my third year, so even though it doesn't seem like it, I'm right on schedule, especially considering I have two majors, I'm pretty impressive.
Deep down, I'm still that girl who'd rather be travelling the world, doing something "great" with my life, I've just realized that getting an education can help that lifestyle along. So, I'm working, learning and biding my time until I can be off again (though, admittedly, I wouldn't mind some redheaded babies, I'd dress them up as leprechauns and Lucille Ball for Halloween).
As I sat there, listening to this blast from my past describe me, I felt sucked back in time and had to remember what it was like to be defined in a completely inaccurate way. I wasn't a fan.
I'm nothing like the girl itching to get out of high school, just like you aren't the 15 year-old version of yourself (hopefully anyway).
Give people the right to their own experiences. Think about how far you've come and how thankful you are for your blunders and set backs. I now know that I'm not the mean, self-righteous, intimidatingly cold know-it-all that everyone thought I was.
I know that I'm kind, thoughtful, accepting, insightful, intelligent and interesting. Those things deserve to be recognized in me, just like your positive & defining attributes deserve to be seen in you. Let's not be 15 year-olds anymore.
We were separated at birth. I'm sure of it. That's EXACTLY how my life is! Adults LOVE me and of course they ask: How are you not married yet?! bleck. really? Let us be our own people. Thank you very much. :)
ReplyDelete