My mother recently told me that I was sensitive and shy when I was very little and she was afraid of how the world would receive me. I don't know what that says about me. She sent me to private school because she didn't want me to get rewarded for being a suck-up (she thought that being sensitive and shy would lead to being a "pleaser," which she felt was overly rewarded in public school--and she felt that being rewarded for being a "pleaser" discouraged creativity). Little did she know that I would spend the rest of my life trying to be more of a suck-up; a few weeks ago she also said that she didn't think I had the "suck-up gene."
Along those lines, I think I'm starting to come around. I'm comfortable enough to be myself and get the job done without being rude and rowdy. Well, I can still get rowdy but I'm no longer "scary," I don't think.
I have a friend who lives in New York. He was in my very first English class at Portland State. I was a complete hot head my first couple years at PSU--I was great at literary analysis and I wanted to let the world know that I was SMART. (This is also coming off of being an utter failure in private school and being "not asked back" right before senior year.) We didn't get to know each other in that class--in fact, I only made one friend (a lifelong friend) in that class. When we finally did become friends, he told me that he did remember me from that class; he told me that when I was 18, I was scary!
At 18 I had my hackles up all the time. It was exhausting, now that I think about it. I didn't think of my life as a long path I could walk down; I thought of it as a short walk to a window out of which I would probably jump. It's funny, Lev and I plan for things. We plan for which year we want to do this, and what month we are going to do this. We want children when Lev's done with school.
I know everyone always thinks about what they will do differently from their parents when they have children of their own. I can safely say that my mother was the very best mother that ever there was--she attempted to shield me from the ills of the world, and I love her for it. Children grow up, and they seem to end up being exactly who they were supposed to be all along.
Along those lines, I think I'm starting to come around. I'm comfortable enough to be myself and get the job done without being rude and rowdy. Well, I can still get rowdy but I'm no longer "scary," I don't think.
I have a friend who lives in New York. He was in my very first English class at Portland State. I was a complete hot head my first couple years at PSU--I was great at literary analysis and I wanted to let the world know that I was SMART. (This is also coming off of being an utter failure in private school and being "not asked back" right before senior year.) We didn't get to know each other in that class--in fact, I only made one friend (a lifelong friend) in that class. When we finally did become friends, he told me that he did remember me from that class; he told me that when I was 18, I was scary!
At 18 I had my hackles up all the time. It was exhausting, now that I think about it. I didn't think of my life as a long path I could walk down; I thought of it as a short walk to a window out of which I would probably jump. It's funny, Lev and I plan for things. We plan for which year we want to do this, and what month we are going to do this. We want children when Lev's done with school.
I know everyone always thinks about what they will do differently from their parents when they have children of their own. I can safely say that my mother was the very best mother that ever there was--she attempted to shield me from the ills of the world, and I love her for it. Children grow up, and they seem to end up being exactly who they were supposed to be all along.
2 comments:
This is really, really great writing. Great thinking. In fact I saved it... I'm saving all of it ... you know, just in case google runs out of room, or goes out of business or somethin'.
Thanks! I don't think google will ever run out of room...
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