The Strength to Be Happy

Even on the brightest days shadows lurk around leery corners. As the sun crosses the afternoon sky the grays creepily grow over lush grass until night arrives and the world is shaded in darkness. This is the best metaphor I can think to describe my slow decent back into anxiety. Lately I have found myself more influenced by the adverse memories of my past than by my dreams for the future, whereas a couple years ago I was a bright and vibrant woman who was coping well with what life threw at her and had big expectations for herself. I remember a time when I was virtually free of anxiety and how I began to take a clear mind for granted. I miss that bliss immensely at times.

Over the past year or so, becoming more aware of newer nervous habits and a rise in panic attacks and other anxiety-related problems, I’ve become increasingly frustrated with myself. Why is this happening to me? I was doing so well, and it is unfair that after working so hard I’m regressing into a nutball. Ever the psychologist, I am always analyzing and discovering new things about myself. It is amazing the things you can learn about your life and habits just by thinking. In the back of my mind though, I know the answer. I had identified my problem a few years ago but never allowed myself to come to terms with it. This blog post, whether it is read or not, is my attempt at trying to understand the pain I was put through and hopefully begin some kind of road to healing. I have never talked about this before, not even with my family or my closest friends, but as my anxiety and stress reach levels that are clearly unhealthy I know I need to, and I know that writing is the only way  will be able to.

Imagine yourself in elementary school when you are still so young and all you want is to make friends, run around, and play in the dirt. Imagine you do make a friend and that person remains as such through the rest of elementary school, middle school, and high school. Somewhere along the line the upgrade to “best friend” is made. You are inseparable. You are known as a pair, an entity, and when one is seen alone it often leads to the question, “Where is the other one?” Imagine late nights, football games, movies, and laughter. Inside jokes, vacations, bad decisions and no secrets. For all intents and purposes it is a perfect friendship.

Now imagine cruel words, power plays, and mocking tones. Imagine that one person that you trusted with everything being the one person sending you home in tears at the end of the day. Imagine every day, for seven years, being made to feel stupid, unpretty, and not good enough. I honestly hope that you can’t imagine it, because it is not a feeling that I would wish on anyone. It isn’t fun to be afraid to be yourself. I didn’t even know who “myself” was until college granted me freedom away from this friend’s judgement.

I often hear the words, “Don’t worry so much” and “Try to relax.” Do you know how hard it is to not worry and to relax when every day for a huge portion of your life everything you did was “wrong”? I am so sensitive to what others are thinking and feeling because for a very long time I was constantly on extremely thin ice, afraid of saying something that might prompt rebuke. I worry about others before myself because, heaven forbid I said or did something to make myself happy, I would be reprimanded. If I said something silly and innocuous it was thrown in my face, and if I didn’t say something because I was afraid of the reaction I’d get I’d be yelled at. Basically I was punished for everything. Good or bad, right or wrong, a big deal or not. To give you an idea, on one occasion I was criticized for the way I drank my water and on another I was admonished for wanting pancakes. I was given the silent treatment for a few days after a birthday because my dad surprised me with tickets to see RENT and at my mother’s funeral I still remember the looks I received from this friend, almost as if the words “Could you stop being so mopey?” were right there ready to drive a knife through my stomach. For a long time following this I pushed people away and didn’t open up about my feelings very much because the thought of being so vulnerable made me feel sick to my stomach. To a point it still does, sitting here typing this I can feel the pit rising. I tip my hat to anyone who can make it through seven years of emotional abuse at the hands of a once trusted companion and not have any scars.

There is one moment I will never forget. In my freshman year of high school myself, this friend, and another mutual friend (who remains my bestie to this day) joined the committee to design and build the Homecoming float. The theme that year was Disney movies, and the freshman class had chosen Beauty and the Beast. This was exciting for me because Beauty and the Beast is my all-time favorite. When I was little I watched it so much that my mom called me “Belle,” a moniker that has since been lost to me and I miss from time to time. While discussing how the group would decide who would play the leading lady, my bestie jokingly leaned over to me and said, “You should be Belle! It’s your nickname anyway!” I smiled and laughed appreciatively, having no intention of actually putting my name in the running. To this, my friend turned and scoffed, “You? Yeah, okay.” It felt like a little dagger had been shoved through my heart. Maybe on its own this doesn’t seem like much, but several similar instances building up every day over several years starts to beat down your psyche. You actually do begin to feel like you’re not good enough. Now I am strong enough to defend myself, or simply not care, but at the delicate teenage age when all you want is acceptance I would take the sticks and stones before the words.

There is one thing I’m sure you’re thinking at this point, “Why did you put up with it? Why didn’t you just end the friendship and leave?” I completely understand why you would ask. I used to wonder the same thing upon hearing similar stories. The best I can say is because you don’t realize what is happening until you are so deep into the situation that you are afraid of the repercussions should you try to break free. It isn’t something that starts suddenly. The first time some unkind words are said you hardly notice. The second time you may think, “Oh, he/she is just having a bad day.” As it goes on you place the blame on other things, like their home life or personal problems. A couple years in you being to crave their approval because you remember when you had a healthy friendship and you want to get back to that place, but despite your efforts to make the person happy things only get worse. I didn’t know that I was actually afraid of my friend until about the sixth or seventh year of this behavior when I found myself deliberately not telling my friend things just to avoid potential criticism. Going into college I couldn’t interact with people because I was afraid of judgement. It wasn’t until my sophomore year that I realized how lucky I was, because I did have some people in my life who would never dream of hurting me and wanted nothing more than to see me smile. It also wasn’t until my sophomore year that I realized what I had tolerated for seven years, and it wasn’t until last night (I graduate college over a year ago now, to give you a reference of time) that it hit me so hard I actually broke down and cried. I’m tired of feeling emotionally restrained because someone else chose to take their pain out on me. I’m tired of feeling dumb, unpretty, and unconfident when I have no reason to and, most of all, I am tired of letting my past define me. I want that strength to forgive and move on. I want the strength to be happy. Maybe this is a good start? Maybe I don’t have to fear the darkness, because dawn is only a few hours away.


Unapologetically You

© Noelle Kraft Photography

© Noelle Kraft Photography

Everyone at some point (or points) in their life goes through a period of re-evaluation. This time is characterized by bouts of self-reflection and critical examination of your deepest thoughts and desires. I, so far, have had exactly three such occurrences.

The first is a rather mundane story. It occurred toward the end of my senior year of high school in the view of an impending graduation. I struggled with the same questions everyone does: Who am I? What am I supposed to be? Did I choose the right university? Is it okay that I want to take a year off before I further my degree? I did take a year off, and to this day I don’t regret it. I heard a lot of the mildly irritating comment, “You know most people who take a year off don’t usually go back to school, right?” However, despite these words ringing in my ears, I never doubted my decision. After all, I know myself best.

The second period of revelation came about during the winter break of my sophomore year of college. It had been about five months since my mother passed away and I was, as anyone would be, feeling lost, confused, and sad. Up until that point I had struggled through college. I tried several different majors to no avail and the added burden of knowing I was running out of general electives was weighing on my mind. I spent the month and a half or so that I was home from school between semesters in deep thought. What am I supposed to do? What would make me happy? I discovered things about myself that I had never known before and still stick with me, all because I took the time to think. I ended up returning for spring semester with a smile on my face and conviction in my heart. The first moment I got I declared psychology as my major and loved it. Is it what I’m doing now? No, but I wouldn’t take it back.

The past few months I have been working through my third stretch of self-discovery. Many people get a little blue during the winter months, but piling on additional stressors this year made it particularly unforgiving for me. Those of you plagued with anxiety will know how dangerous it is to be left alone with your own thoughts, especially during times of mental and emotional strain. It’s something that is difficult to understand if you do not suffer from anxiety, but if one bad little thought enters your mind and you don’t have something to distract you it will begin to fester. The more you think about it the more your mind will begin to blow it out of proportion. Eventually you will know that what you are thinking is crazy and unrealistic, but you can’t make the thoughts go away. The more you try to handle it yourself, the worse it gets. At one point my encumbered mind was so overwhelmed it drove me to cry myself to sleep every night for a week. Of course, I couldn’t tell anyone this. I have the bad habit of pushing people away when I need them the most. I knew that friends would help me feel better, but when I’m upset I’m less likely to talk to people. I don’t even give them the chance to make me smile or laugh, though I know everyone in my life would be more than happy to do so.

But then one day it was gone. All the anxiety and stress and depression I had been fighting left me in one liberating exhale that I still can’t explain. It was like a movie when the rain suddenly stops and the clouds clear away to reveal the bright sunlight. A few days later it tried to creep back in, but with all of the strength I could muster I refused to allow it to consume my mind again. I don’t know what suddenly caused the storms to dispel and I may never will. But if I had to guess, I would say a person. The right person walking into your life at the right time and saying all of the things you never knew you needed to hear can have a stronger impact than either of you realize. The person may never know what they did for me: their words reached me when no one else’s could. They didn’t know I was suffering emotionally and weren’t intentionally trying to brighten my spirits, they were just being themselves and for whatever reason it was exactly what I needed. I could never see them again and still I will never forget them.

Today was the best I’ve felt since December. I hiked with a friend and enjoyed the warmer weather, something so simple but for some reason today was soulful. Today I felt so unapologetically me. Are things perfect? No. But I can handle it. I’ve proven to myself many times that I’m strong and can conquer life’s curve balls. I’m not sure why I ever doubted that.

So here is my advice for the oncoming spring: Be completely, whole-heartedly, and unapologetically you. Help others, live and breathe your passions, smile, and find what makes waking up in the morning worth it.

Omg hai! How R U LOL <3

We are privileged. We live in a world now that even 30 years ago may have seemed like something from science fiction. In fact, the inventor of the mobile phone credits Star Trek’s TOS communicator for giving him the inspiration to create the tiny handheld device (That’s right, guys, you can thank TV for that little rectangle that’s glued to your hand). We can connect with anyone, look up anything, and pretty much experience the entire world without leaving our bed. The technological advancements that we have made are mind blowing – covering everything from daily activities to space exploration to medical equipment. If you haven’t taken the time to appreciate all of the years of hard work and scientific breakthroughs that have gone into creating that little piece of technology that you use to look up cat videos and take selfies you really should. It’s safe to say, I think, that we are pretty lucky to live in today’s world. Indoor plumbing, heating, tech out the wazoo, but what has this done to us?

I’m sure we have all had this experience:  you are hanging out with a friend and start to become frustrated when they won’t put their phone down. I’ve been guilty of it, every one of my friends has been guilty of it, but if it’s so annoying then why do we continue to do it? Why are those bright little screens so addicting, and why are they more important than preserving the beauty of making a personal connection? The greatest moments I’ve shared with people have not been through a text message, but instead came from the laughter of two individuals growing in friendship. Technology has single-handedly stolen from us what makes us human: intimacy.

Think about it. There is a level of connection that humans reach which cannot be achieved by any other creature. Your cat cannot tell you when she wants to be when she grows up, and two butterflies can’t confide in each other their deepest secrets. What makes us different is our ability to relate and empathize, to understand and sympathize – to be intimate with someone (Just to clarify, I don’t say “intimacy” to refer to what happens between the sheets. But you knew that. I think? Yes.).

The loss of intimacy that has resulted from technology is scary enough when you think about it, but even more terrifying is the assimilation that has been caused by it. I call to your attention:

“The Basic White Girl.”

I’ll bet the second you read that a mental image appeared in your head. It is probably something along the lines of a bleached blonde who tanned a little too and is long sitting with her friend outside of a coffee shop. There is some combination of UGGs, leggings, and North Faces going on there, and there are definitely pumpkin spiced lattes. They are both on their phones while holding a conversation that is full of annoying laughs, “Oh my God,” and “I can’t even.” Am I right? If I’m not then I’m probably close.

Technology has made it so easy to connect with people that it makes it even easier to lose your individuality. When you can constantly keep in touch with people at every hour of the day, doesn’t it make sense that you would begin to think and act more like each other? That little phrase that I am constantly hearing from men “All girls are the same!” is starting to make sense now, isn’t it?

Speaking of men, aren’t all guys the same, too? That’s what I hear, anyway. Of course, it isn’t true. Just like all girls aren’t the same. But along the way there may have been some morally-loose men that made friends (it happens), and then those friends made friends (which also happens), etc. That morally-loose quality is not solely spread by technology, but technology is a conductor. Think of college, for instance:  Morally-loose Johnny texts bookworm Ronny to come to a party. Ronny refuses on account of there being a test in the morning, but after some not-so-gentle prodding from Johnny he gives in and decides to forgo his studies. At the party he has fun, drinks, meets Basic White Girl, maybe gets lucky, and is praised in his endeavors in texts the next day from Johnny who says, “Good job, bro! That chick was so hot!” Next time Ronny is asked to go to a party, he might be more inclined to because of this positive reinforcement. Every time Ronny goes out he is praised by Johnny, and the next thing you know he is partying with the best of them. And you know what? Eventually Ronny will find a new friend and the trend will continue.

Assimilation isn’t always a problem, right? Of course not. It feels good to be liked. It feels good to fit in. I’m not condemning it in the slightest, but it occasionally has unfortunate outcomes. There is a different matter that is a bigger problem than this, however, and that is objectification. Not just of women, but of men as well (since people seem to forget that it is a two-way street). With the world online now it isn’t hard to find something to get your libido humming with just a few keystrokes. There are a million and one ways this is damaging that I can go into, but that might be for another blog post. My point is, technology makes it so easy to find a sexual conquest and even easier to be rewarded for it. But when did getting to know a woman’s body become more important than getting to know her mind? When did “sexy” and “hot” become interchangeable with “beautiful” and “handsome”? I’ll admit, some guys are very nice to look at. Any girl who says otherwise is lying. But I have never been more attracted to a man than when he is talking to me about the things he is passionate about. Do you know what is most alluring in a person? Individuality. Passion. Ambition. Intellect. Talent.

All of the things that you can miss when you are looking at your phone.

To my ever after, with love

As young girls we develop the fantasy in our minds that we are one day going to meet our Prince Charming and in a split second everything will change. It will be that moment when the cosmos shifts and all of the stars align, forming a bright and shining arrow that points to our future. Maybe it will be at a party, maybe in class, maybe in a coffee shop. No matter where the place our eyes will meet from across the room and suddenly the haze that enveloped us our entire lives will be lifted. We will know, right there in that coffee shop, that we have found the one. You will get up out of your chair, walk over with a dashing smile, and say something so witty and charming that I will have no choice but to love you. We will have a first date, a second, a third. We will become engaged and married and have a family. It will be our happily ever after. You, my Knight in shining armor. Me, your Damsel. Most of us have had this fantasy in some capacity, yes?

How silly to think love worked that way.

Do I believe in love at first sight? Yes, to a point. Do I believe in soul mates? Yes, in some way. Do I believe that love is really that easy? No, not in the slightest. It’s actually a shame when you really think about it, that our childhood imagination can be so easily demolished by learning the reality of things. The day I realized that love wouldn’t be so easy it nearly ruined me. It is so hard to stay positive when there is an emptiness in your heart that tells you every day that you are ready to love and care for someone, and to be loved and cared for in return. Now here I am, several years later and still inexperienced in its ways. One thing that has changed, though, is that where originally it felt hopeless it no longer does. No, it won’t be easy. I may not fall in love for a year, or two, or ten, but I can anxiously await the day you walk into my life. That one day, that one moment, when our lives will change forever before we’ve even noticed. However, I’m not going to lie, some days that emptiness in my heart burns a little more than usual. Some days I miss you so much and I don’t even know you yet.

The day I find you, my ever after, will be the happiest day of my life. I may not know it for a year, or two, or ten, but the first moment that I see you will be forever imprinted on my heart. And that moment when we finally look at each other with smiles full of love is what keeps me going. I can’t wait to meet you, my ever after. I can’t wait to hear your voice, touch your hair, and feel your arms around me. I can’t wait to wake up early to surprise you with breakfast, cuddle with you on the couch when you’ve had a bad day, and find new and wonderful places for us by going on drives to nowhere. I can’t wait for you to tease me, push my buttons, and drive me crazy. Most of all, I can’t wait to love you.

Until that day comes, I am trying so hard to become the woman you deserve. Through my pursuit of love I have already learned so much, but I know that there is always room to learn more. I’m not going to be perfect, not like you. I might be angry sometimes over things that aren’t your fault. I might silently cry and let my stubbornness prevent me from telling you what is wrong. I might become jealous when I shouldn’t be or expect more from you than is fair when life is weighing me down. I just pray that through all of this you will still have a place in your heart for me, and know that if you have a place in mine then you will have it forever. I promise, my love for you will burn more passionately than you can imagine. I won’t love you to the moon and back. No, I will love you to every star in the universe, until the end of days when the last one fades to dust. And when I fade, when my life is extinguished, I will lay my hands over my heart so you know that even though I am gone my love for you will live forever. I promise that if you are good to me, I will be just as good to you. I will love you when you are angry at me for things that aren’t my fault. I will love you when your stubbornness prevents you from telling me what is wrong. I will love you when you have no reason to be jealous, and I will love you when life is weighing you down and you expect more from me than I can give. I know our love will be hard. Some days we might want to quit. Some days I may push you to the edge or you may push me. Knowing this, most of all I promise that I will never give up on you. If I give you my love, it is yours until the end of time.

My ever after. I await the day I can finally know you. Or maybe I already do…

Where I See Purple, You See Blue

Perception is a funny thing. It varies so much that it is possible no one ever views anything exactly the same way as anyone else. Where one person sees a cloud in the shape of a sailboat, another might see it in the shape of a puppy or a flower. Two people from two different cultures can look at the exact same color and where one will see purple, the other will see blue. What’s right for one can be wrong for another, and what’s tasty to you may be unsatisfying for me. Perception is born out of the accumulation of experience, and since even twin siblings can encounter different challenges from the moment they are born I hope it is safe to say that that no two perceptions are alike.

This includes our perceptions of other people.

You are walking down a busy city street. Car horns are blaring as soon as lights turn green and citizens bustle around you hurriedly trying to make it to their meetings and lunch dates. The air smells of car fumes and the occasional tree sits up against the edge of the sidewalk to add some color to the grey urban scheme. Every piece of the scenery, every person around you, it has a purpose that you unconsciously take in as you stay true to your long strides toward your destination. But then you pass a man. He sits alone on the sidewalk, his dark eyes weary from a long life and his back pressed against the brick wall of the apartment complex behind him. A gray, scraggly beard falls from his chin, and his clothes are torn and old. Beside him is a tin can, filled with a couple dollars and a few quarters from passerby. He says nothing, and is too tired to raise his eyes and look at the countless people who stroll by without paying him mind.

In the split second it takes you to decide whether or not to add to the collection in the tin can, you will have already made a hundred perceptions about this man. Is he poor? Homeless? Lazy? Unlucky? A drug addict? An alcoholic? Disabled? All of the above? Or none? What is his age? Is the money for himself or someone else? Is he going to use it for food? Surely he could find a job, can’t he? The list goes on and on, and all of the questions are answered in the blink of an eye. Your conclusion drawn from these questions is what will make you decide whether or not to give this man money, and you answer all of them without even asking his name. That is how the human mind works. It is amazing and terrifying, the things we can assume about other people in the time it takes to snap our fingers. Not only that, every conclusion that you make before you either keep walking or drop a dollar is the result of past experience. Every person’s answer to these questions will be different because no two people are the same. Some will give money, but many also won’t, and the reasons they have for doing one or the other will all slightly differ from each other.

To get my point across, this was a more extreme example of the powers of perception. Even more incredible than this though is your perceptions of yourself and how they can differ from others. No on knows you better than you, right? Maybe, but maybe not. In the past where I have seen myself as being helpful, others have seen me as a brown-nose. In the present where I see myself as being selfish, other people furrow their brows and ask me what on Earth I’m talking about. You can spend your whole like identifying yourself one way, and then in that split second someone else can shatter those perceptions. Or something else can happen, they can become even stronger than they were before. That’s the thing about perceptions:  they are stubborn and ours have to be the right ones. I’m pretty? Yeah, okay, no one ever said that until I lost weight. I’m talented? Sure, because this one drawing out of 50 turned out decent. I’m smart? Right, ask my brothers that and they will tell you a different story. I am the daughter of Aristotle and Plato. I like facts, and the facts say that I am not as pretty as her, or as talented as them, or as smart as him. You could be the smartest, most beautiful, and most talented person that God ever had the joy of creating, but if you don’t believe it yourself then it isn’t really true, is it?

I’m not writing this for sympathy. I don’t want replies that say, “But you ARE beautiful and talented and blah blah blah.” They only thing that will get is a polite “thank you” while I go on and continue to see myself my way. No, I’m writing this because even though I don’t think I am the smartest, the most beautiful, or the most talented, I still like myself. I didn’t always, but I learned to, and when I learned to I started to like others as well and I started to see more beauty in the world around me. Perceptions of your world start with your perceptions of you, and you can’t love others until you learn to love yourself.

So where you see a crier, I see sensitivity. Where you see a weak girl, I see a strong woman. Where you see purple, I see blue.

When I say “Introvert,” you say?

I am and always will be the optimist, the hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams.  – The 11th Doctor

It is safe to say at this point that I am not quite as quiet as I used to be. In fact I have outgrown my shyness and have found that I love talking, even if it is about nothing in particular. That being said, I can still guarantee that by comparison I am a quieter person than many of the people you may know. That is something that is never going to change, but I don’t mind it. While some people may view being introverted as a negative I have learned to use it to my advantage. I have become very skilled at listening, learning, and thinking through problems. I know a lot more about the world around me than people probably realize I do, and when my mind is not distracted with other things it is one of the greatest tools that I have at my disposal.

When my mind is not distracted. In case you missed it, those were the key words. Why am I so quiet, some people wonder? Because my mind is constantly in overdrive. I often get so distracted by my own thoughts and ridiculous daydreams that I miss important plot points in movies, have to reread a page in a book two or three times, or even mentally check out in the middle of a friend talking and then feel like an awful person when they look to me for an answer to the question they just asked. It is something that I have gotten a little better at controlling over the years, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t slip up every now and again. I still remember back to when I started college and focusing in class was the most difficult thing for me to master. In high school it didn’t take much effort to do well, but after moving on to advance my education I learned very quickly that my old habits would have to become just that, old habits. It was time for new ones.

Retraining your mind is not an easy thing to do, in case you were wondering. If my professors managed to say one word that reminded me of something else (be it an inside joke with a friend or a quote from a tv show) my attention would be diverted for the next ten minutes. Next thing you knew, I was missing important information. With time and effort I eventually managed to calm my overactive brain so I could focus when it counted, and let run it wild in my downtime.

Up until this point I might have made this sound like a curse, but I can honestly say that I love my imagination. While it is annoying when it interrupts me during important parts of the day, it keeps me entertained. I have joked with my friends about how with my mind I am never bored, but I still don’t think anyone actually understands just how active the mind of an introvert is unless they can experience it for themselves. The best way I can think to explain it is that it is like having 10 different tabs open in your web browser at once:  one on Facebook (duh), three videos (one music video by your favorite band, an instrumental music video to make you feel cultured, and one showcasing the best moments from Scrubs, all playing at the same time), a picture of a Chimera (because why not?), a picture of a kitten (look at that little face and it’s playing with a ball of string and its wittle paws and ahhh it’s so cute I want to die!!!1!one!!1!), a forum thread about the best powers to have if you were a super hero (or villain, let’s not discriminate), a recipe (probably involving a lot of sugar), an educated and well-informed science article that ponders the mysteries of the universe (or possibly food…), and IMDB to look up everything about the movie you’ve been waiting to see (aka the third Hobbit movie). Yes, at peak moments that is my brain in a nutshell. Are you still wondering why I don’t talk so much?

In all of this mayhem, there are also the moments of extreme and beautiful clarity. When I can really focus all of my thoughts into something meaningful, that is when I find amazing things happen. That is when I can draw, or take pictures, or come to my own conclusions about the purpose of life and what I want out of it. In these moments I can even still let my thoughts run free, but in a more directed path that paints a canvas full of wild fantasies and dreams. Many of these dreams are never going to come true – I am never going to be standing center stage on Broadway belting out an incredible solo – but even knowing that, there is something comforting in the fantasies.

Maybe it is time to revisit the idea of it being a curse as well. Having an overactive imagination is often wonderful, but sometimes detrimental. Much of my anxiety comes from my own mind. Everything can be perfectly fine, but with just the right amount of stress and just the right destructive thought, my world crashes down around me in an explosion of negativity. Because my mind never stops, one negative thought feeds the next until I feel like I am being suffocated. It often results in the illogical feeling of paranoia. I will begin to question and make unfounded assumptions about my friendships, my choices, and my life thus far until time or someone pulls me out of that panic. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and for having fun high moments I guess it is only fitting to be plagued with intense low moments as well.

Why is it that I’m telling you all of this? There was a reason behind me going off on this personal tangent. In fact my reason behind this post is generally the same reason I had for starting this blog. Through experience I have learned the true meaning of an introvert, and I have also learned that introverts are misunderstood and often viewed in a negative light when held next to societal standards. Being quiet is supposedly unattractive. We are supposed to be vivacious, outgoing, leaders! We have to be assertive and take charge! And that is fine, for many people. What is forgotten though is that us introverts are your thinkers. We are your inventors and your artists and your writers. Don’t get me wrong, extraverts are just as amazing, just as intelligent, and just as important. No society could function properly without a healthy helping of both! But introverts are left off to the side and forgotten about. We are the ones who sit in the classroom and get looks from classmates who wonder why we are so “weird” and “quiet.” This short delve into my mind was to (hopefully) humanize me and everyone else who has ever been misunderstood because they don’t talk as much. Yes I am quiet, but I am also real. I have feelings, I have thoughts, I have opinions. I laugh, I cry, I empathize, I love, all more fiercely than you could imagine. Because of my nature I’m not so likely to walk up to a stranger and say hi, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Try making friends with the quiet one next time, it could change your perspective and your life in more ways than you realize.

When One Door Closes…

There’s something incredible that happens as you get older. At first aging may seem like a cage that gets smaller each time you pass another year, trapping you in the prison of shortening time and making you feel suffocated. To an extent this feeling never completely goes away, but with the oncoming of maturity also comes emotional liberation.

As children we are not ready for this experience. Childhood is meant for fun and exploration, naivete and learning our limits, and discovering the differences between right and wrong. The journey to this feeling of freedom begins in our adolescence at the first moment we start wondering what other people are thinking when they look at us. In its youth, this feeling seems like a fairytale. Around the time a pre-teen sets out on the awkward road of physical changes and self-discovery they are entirely self-centered and obsessed with fitting in. There are some people who may refute this, and to an extent everyone’s experience is subjective, but at the same time every person has the deeply-rooted need to be liked. As a teenager this need is your world. It isn’t anyone’s fault, it is a right of passage and a burden we must carry as we make our way to adulthood. You will say things that you don’t believe in order to make your friends like you, hold your tongue to avoid “tattling” on people that you want to fit in with, set aside activities that seem childish or uncool, and at some point you will say those words that every parent dreads hearing, “I don’t tell you everything that happens in my life anymore.”

Everyone hates this stage. Siblings, parents, strangers in the mall, and probably even you. I’ll admit that I think back to my teenage years sometimes and roll my eyes at myself. However, things start to change a little bit around the age of 18. Instead of wanting to fit in, you want good company. You desire to surround yourself with people that you like so that you have the option of actually being yourself. You are finishing high school and moving onward to college (or work, etc.) and maybe subconsciously you start to realize that the high school drama that you used to keep yourself in the center of now begins to feel like a waste of time and energy? You break out the classic Disney movies and reminisce about your childhood, then the next day at school aren’t afraid to say to your friends, “I watched The Lion King last night for the first time in years, I cried so hard!” Somewhere along the line the word No becomes okay to say if you are protecting your own well-being, and while your parents might still be embarrassing on some level you are starting to feel like enough of an adult to talk to them as an equal.

The next four years or so welcome forth affective autonomy. Your life changes drastically after high school whether you go to college or not:  more freedom, new friends, more responsibility, etc. There comes a moment amongst all of this change and turmoil where you realize that you no longer care. I don’t mean this in a bad way, rather I mean that the idea that others are always watching and judging you no longer bears a weight on your mind. You begin to do things you want to do because you want to do them. You start to learn and appreciate new things, make friends with incredible people you never imagined meeting, and when you get dressed in the morning you put on clothes that make you feel good rather than clothes that will make others like you. Your relationships turn into quality friendships, and you start to understand that petty drama and fake personalities are not something that you have time or space for. It is along with all of this that you also begin to feel that quality really is better than quantity, and that you will be a happier person in the long run by allowing people in your life that you want there and ignoring those that poison your mind.

This is the path I’ve traveled over the last 10 years of my life. Now when I think back to my awkward teen years I sigh and wonder why it was ever worth it for me to care so much. I’ve learned that it’s okay that I like both shopping and football, baking and playing The Legend of Zelda, doing my hair and bing-watching Netflix in my pjs while eating cookies out of my TARDIS cookie jar, and being girly around some people and nerdy around others. Even more amazing is that this liberation gives you the energy to learn things about yourself you never even thought about before. For instance, only recently did I realize how picky I am about the people I let into my life. I can tell within couple minutes of talking to someone for the first time whether a friendship with them is a good idea, and if I decide that I want a person around I will fight to keep their friendship and I will give them everything I can. This revelation is something that I never would have come across when I was 16, but learning about it now has allowed me to strengthen preexisting and new relationships.

There is a point to this whole story. As a teenager your eyesight is so narrow it seems like high school is all there is and ever will be. After you leave you realize how big and amazing the world really is, and how worth it it is to get through those difficult years so you have the opportunity to make your reality something wonderful. I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by good people in middle school and high school that made it a relatively good experience for me, but there are other people who aren’t so lucky. Those people are who I am talking to today. High school isn’t everything. Whatever else it is that is holding you down isn’t everything. The world is so much bigger, so much wilder and so much more invigorating. Maybe it is hard now, but it gets better, and after are you are free from those chains you have the ability to make your life what you want it to be. I waited longer than I would have wanted to to make this realization, don’t make the same mistake. Think about this now. Revisit old hobbies, make a list of new things you want to try and places you want to go, have all of this ready so the day you feel that door open you can step through with a smile make the most of it.