Ecstatic
I think I've lost it. Or maybe, I've finally found it.
Went to long island and visited my little cousins. They range in ages 8 to 18. Finally hit adolescence, and it made me realize that, perhaps, I've grown up quite a bit since those times. Strikingly beautiful and so much more cultured than I was at that age, they are preoccupied with fashion, hollywood gossip, boys and cell phones. I was absolutely struck by how every little snag in their life turned their worlds upside-down: the boyfriend who kept calling turned into the obnoxious stalker, the girl with the mutual crush was the enemy with bad hair, the teacher who wanted to help was an overbearing monster. They bury their heads in magazines and wash their brains with MTV. I was forced to reminisce about how I was when I was their age. Thrown into boarding school, not having time for cell phones, boys, or MTV, I buried myself in my writing and my books. And yet, looking back, I completely understand because I too had an obnoxious stalker (who turned out to be my first boyfriend), fought with the enemy with bad hair (who turned out to be my best friend) and dealt with my own group of overbearing monsters (who ended up changing my life.) And though I could sympathize, I knew they wouldn't have any of it. Because when I was their age, the last thing I wanted to hear was the most important thing I could've been told: It's going to turn out alright in the end. Being with them for a week, I don't think I've ever felt so uncool in my life. What's more is, I don't think I've ever been so OK with feeling so uncool.
My brother made a speech at our 8th grade graduation. I remember it because it was particularly emotional for us: we were leaving our comfortable school to go off to the unknown planet of ancient buildings and hallowed passageways, drenched in thick mists that covered the fields before class and vibrated with the deep tones of the bell tower: Midatlantic boarding school. He said that we should "leave here knowing that the person we have become is the person we've always wanted to be." Little did we know of the hard times we had ahead, of tumoltuous friendships, dauntingly difficult classes, teachers that would push us till we cracked; little did we know what adventures and fantastic plots lay ahead of us in the obscure path through adolescence that had been chosen for us. I enveloped myself in the haze of contradictory indifference and passion, tried on so many masks and personas, explored every depth of the puzzle which lay within my own body and came out even more confused than ever.
Adolescence is really that time where we drive ourselves crazy trying to figure where we fit. We're always trying to find a category, to give ourselves a label, to "know thyself". But trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth (I don't remember who said that, but I didn't come up with that one...) and it just leaves you bitter and unsatisfied. Don't get me wrong, I had a decent adolescence. For the most part I enjoyed myself, but I always felt as though i was enveloped in a haze, like there was so much I needed to figure out, but just couldn't, which just really frustrated me more than anything. I remember being upset that I just couldn't figure myself out, feeling completely overwhelmed because for some reason i thought "finding" myself would somehow signify the end of the metamorphasis into adulthood, the end of a brutally awkward and unknown phase that plagued me. I was constantly struggling with the differing images I had of myself, of the differing images people had of me: the quiet girl, the rebellious artist, the reclusive poet, the outspoken activist, the proper good girl, the crazy bad girl, the girlfriend, the free spirit, etc. These labels I juggled drove me crazy because I couldn't fit in just one of them, and yet they were all so contradictory in nature. Adolescence is filled with turmoil, filled with this constant struggle of figuring out ourselves, trying to label our personalities. It's one of those things that you struggle so hard to figure out, and the more you struggle, the more confused you get, when really the answer is infront of you the entire time. Or rather, within you.
Then, yesterday, met up with some old friends from high school. I got to thinking about how silly high school was, how much grief and angst was druged up during that time, how I never quite felt like I fit in, and how I was so driven to figure out who I was and why exactly I didn't fit in. I looked at my old friends last night, and thought to myself "everythng turned out alright after all." The haze of adolescence had finally lifted; I realized that for the past 8 months i was enveloped in a new haze. A haze of crazy and overwhelming feelings of satisfaction and happiness.
Satisfaction? Happiness? At first I thought it was because I had finally freed myself from what seemed like the eternal "girlfriend" role. But that wasn't quite it. Then I thought it was because I had the time of my life and finally found "my people." But then I left spain. Then I thought it was because I was living on my own. But I moved back in with my parents, and yet the feeling remains. Finally I've come to the realization that perhaps this happiness is caused by something much greater; a final end to my constant and blinding struggle with myself.
The happiness I feel is completely different than any feeling I've ever had. Overwhelmingly ecstatic, full of life, full of the appreciation of what we are all so capable of if we just free ourselves, tempered by an overpowering feeling of helplessness, loss and sadness, mediated by a debilitating compassion for others. I've finally come to appreciate and love the haze which surrounds my very self, I've come to accept, if not understand, my own uncertainty. I now see the unending beauty in the unnamable unknown.
My parents kept saying it. My brother did too. Even my aunts and uncles said it when they saw me interact with my cousins. I don't know why I didn't see it until now, until my drive home from work this evening to be exact. I think it really finally hit me. I'm 21 now. I've grown up.
I've finally become the person I've always wanted to be. Or, perhaps, I've finally become ok with the person I always was.
Went to long island and visited my little cousins. They range in ages 8 to 18. Finally hit adolescence, and it made me realize that, perhaps, I've grown up quite a bit since those times. Strikingly beautiful and so much more cultured than I was at that age, they are preoccupied with fashion, hollywood gossip, boys and cell phones. I was absolutely struck by how every little snag in their life turned their worlds upside-down: the boyfriend who kept calling turned into the obnoxious stalker, the girl with the mutual crush was the enemy with bad hair, the teacher who wanted to help was an overbearing monster. They bury their heads in magazines and wash their brains with MTV. I was forced to reminisce about how I was when I was their age. Thrown into boarding school, not having time for cell phones, boys, or MTV, I buried myself in my writing and my books. And yet, looking back, I completely understand because I too had an obnoxious stalker (who turned out to be my first boyfriend), fought with the enemy with bad hair (who turned out to be my best friend) and dealt with my own group of overbearing monsters (who ended up changing my life.) And though I could sympathize, I knew they wouldn't have any of it. Because when I was their age, the last thing I wanted to hear was the most important thing I could've been told: It's going to turn out alright in the end. Being with them for a week, I don't think I've ever felt so uncool in my life. What's more is, I don't think I've ever been so OK with feeling so uncool.
My brother made a speech at our 8th grade graduation. I remember it because it was particularly emotional for us: we were leaving our comfortable school to go off to the unknown planet of ancient buildings and hallowed passageways, drenched in thick mists that covered the fields before class and vibrated with the deep tones of the bell tower: Midatlantic boarding school. He said that we should "leave here knowing that the person we have become is the person we've always wanted to be." Little did we know of the hard times we had ahead, of tumoltuous friendships, dauntingly difficult classes, teachers that would push us till we cracked; little did we know what adventures and fantastic plots lay ahead of us in the obscure path through adolescence that had been chosen for us. I enveloped myself in the haze of contradictory indifference and passion, tried on so many masks and personas, explored every depth of the puzzle which lay within my own body and came out even more confused than ever.
Adolescence is really that time where we drive ourselves crazy trying to figure where we fit. We're always trying to find a category, to give ourselves a label, to "know thyself". But trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth (I don't remember who said that, but I didn't come up with that one...) and it just leaves you bitter and unsatisfied. Don't get me wrong, I had a decent adolescence. For the most part I enjoyed myself, but I always felt as though i was enveloped in a haze, like there was so much I needed to figure out, but just couldn't, which just really frustrated me more than anything. I remember being upset that I just couldn't figure myself out, feeling completely overwhelmed because for some reason i thought "finding" myself would somehow signify the end of the metamorphasis into adulthood, the end of a brutally awkward and unknown phase that plagued me. I was constantly struggling with the differing images I had of myself, of the differing images people had of me: the quiet girl, the rebellious artist, the reclusive poet, the outspoken activist, the proper good girl, the crazy bad girl, the girlfriend, the free spirit, etc. These labels I juggled drove me crazy because I couldn't fit in just one of them, and yet they were all so contradictory in nature. Adolescence is filled with turmoil, filled with this constant struggle of figuring out ourselves, trying to label our personalities. It's one of those things that you struggle so hard to figure out, and the more you struggle, the more confused you get, when really the answer is infront of you the entire time. Or rather, within you.
Then, yesterday, met up with some old friends from high school. I got to thinking about how silly high school was, how much grief and angst was druged up during that time, how I never quite felt like I fit in, and how I was so driven to figure out who I was and why exactly I didn't fit in. I looked at my old friends last night, and thought to myself "everythng turned out alright after all." The haze of adolescence had finally lifted; I realized that for the past 8 months i was enveloped in a new haze. A haze of crazy and overwhelming feelings of satisfaction and happiness.
Satisfaction? Happiness? At first I thought it was because I had finally freed myself from what seemed like the eternal "girlfriend" role. But that wasn't quite it. Then I thought it was because I had the time of my life and finally found "my people." But then I left spain. Then I thought it was because I was living on my own. But I moved back in with my parents, and yet the feeling remains. Finally I've come to the realization that perhaps this happiness is caused by something much greater; a final end to my constant and blinding struggle with myself.
The happiness I feel is completely different than any feeling I've ever had. Overwhelmingly ecstatic, full of life, full of the appreciation of what we are all so capable of if we just free ourselves, tempered by an overpowering feeling of helplessness, loss and sadness, mediated by a debilitating compassion for others. I've finally come to appreciate and love the haze which surrounds my very self, I've come to accept, if not understand, my own uncertainty. I now see the unending beauty in the unnamable unknown.
My parents kept saying it. My brother did too. Even my aunts and uncles said it when they saw me interact with my cousins. I don't know why I didn't see it until now, until my drive home from work this evening to be exact. I think it really finally hit me. I'm 21 now. I've grown up.
I've finally become the person I've always wanted to be. Or, perhaps, I've finally become ok with the person I always was.
posted by Jessica @ 3:32 PM
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