It Gets Better

So I'm in college now. I guess this makes me officially old. You'll laugh at that, of course – not old, but in truth an independent adult. And of course, all the changes to my life right now mean that this blog is going to be changing as well. I no longer have the single theme of living abroad to focus on, nor do I have an internship that requires me to blog about my everyday life. Instead I'd like to write more about what already inspires me most – politics, culture, feminism, and people-watching (social observations!). Obviously I haven't hesitated to do so during this past year, and these posts have also been the most successful, with my most-read posts being, in order, I have a massive crush on humanity on the negativity of radical feminism, 5 things about feminism I agree with, my personal favorite The American Essence on American intellectualism, ambition, and competition (which I consider a summary of all my thoughts on living in France), and finally Charity, discussing how to rationally make the world a better place. Clearly my faithful readers agree with me on which topics are the most interesting. With that being said, I'll be writing much less about my day-to-day life and more about the interesting stuff. Today I'm going to write about what it's like to be awkward, a topic I've been meaning to cover for ages (and covered briefly here).

Imagine that you are a martian. You are trying to fit in on Earth, even though you are very unlike the Earthlings. And you are terrified that they will find out your true identity, that you are Not One of Them. You get the feeling that everything you do isn't the right (well, normal) way to do things, right down to the clothes you wear, the lunches you eat, the things that interest you, and the way you staple your homework together. Ok, maybe that last one is an exaggeration, but maybe not. I was joking with my dear friend May about “not getting the memo” – that is, when I was in middle school I didn't get the memo that stretchy pants weren't socially acceptable, I didn't get the memo when everyone started shaving their legs, etc. Maybe other girls have mothers who explain these things to them, or maybe they're just more aware of their surroundings, I don't know. But either way, I never got the memo, and somehow this contributed to the feeling of being not the same species as those around me.

One thing I always admired is how people with confidence acknowledge their differences without thinking it's awkward or special. People have lots of variations in their everyday lives, and sometimes they don't learn all the same things at the same time. Some of my new friends in college just learned how to do laundry this weekend, whereas I've been doing mine since age 11 or so. Some people drink a lot of juice, some people like milk. These personal differences are even more obvious when we're all living in the dorms together. But a few years ago, I never would have been able to say “I don't know how to straighten my hair” and be comfortable with it. Being under the impression that every other girl on the planet had obtained this skill, it would have seemed like an admission that I was a different species, and not a simple “I am a person who has never felt the need to straighten my hair before.” At best, I would have made a big deal out of it, turning it into a label – I've always liked labels way too much. It would have been “I am not a stupid valley girl/fashionista/preppy girl, so (since I am proud of being different and a nerd), of COURSE I don't know how to straighten my hair!” when in reality it is silly to either be ashamed of or make a statement out of such a simple difference.

I don't know what makes people get this feeling. I've heard feeling that we are very different from those around us is one of the classic signs of an introvert, but it also has a lot to do with confidence (a trait not particularly correlated with introversion or extroversion). A lack of confidence was a big factor in making my middle school years (and my year in France, for that matter) unpleasant. Fortunately, this is a trait that can be developed. I remember really wanting to write about this topic a few months ago, but since coming back to the US I have had much less difficulty with this, and no longer feel as strongly about it. The whole reason I am still dedicating a post to it is to talk about how it gets better.

In case you aren't familiar with the It Gets Better project, it's a project to reach out to LGBTQ youth and tell them that life really does get better. Don't give up. It won't always be this bad. I wish this project existed in a more generic form, just to tell all adolescents struggling with depression that it'll get better. I certainly had a very painful middle school experience, and each year with the possible exception of France has been better than the last. Talking to the younger siblings of my friends, I can tell everyone goes through the same things. We all have been hormonal, alienated, mean to others or bullied by others or both, and constantly on the brink of giving up. I wish I could talk to myself from five years ago just to give myself a little hope. And that is also something I'd like to do with this blog, but for those who come after me.

Step number one is just to realize that everyone is human, not robots. They all have differences and awkwardnesses as well. Maybe the kid sitting next to you put on his T-shirt inside-out this morning and only fixed it when someone made fun of him. To you, you don't even question whether it's “weird” or not, but he might feel as mortified about that as you feel when someone thought you were weird for not plucking your eyebrows. And maybe the girl who discovered you don't pluck your eyebrows now feels weird wondering if she is the only one who does. Who knows? The point is, when it happens to other people, you don't notice. It seems normal, because it is normal for humans to have lots of variation. So when it happens to you, don't react like someone just saw through your eyes into your naked soul. Just be cool. Laugh it off. There is no normal.

Another thing that helps sometimes is to break open your boundaries and talk to people about routines – things you wouldn't normally talk about. Some people are very good at the kind of everyday humor that comes with being comfortable with this, for example, telling a funny story about tripping on his own flipflop and faceplanting in front of some cute girls. If someone else can tell this story and it's hilarious and makes you feel closer to them, why can't you do the same? Answer: you probably can. The other day I tripped walking to the dining hall and a group of people were walking behind me. A few years ago I would have kept going without saying a word, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me. But then, I looked back and said “You didn't see that, right?” with a conspiratorial wink. They laughed and we ended up having a really nice conversation. Bonus social points for me! So if this is a problem you suffer from as well, go tell someone about putting too much milk on your cereal this morning and how it got soggy and sucked. Maybe they'll even think you're funny.

When I originally intended to write this post several months ago, it was going to be solely about the odd sensation of being a complete outsider, both as an explanation to those less socially challenged than I and as a request to know if others experience the same thing. But I've been losing interest in this topic. At first this disappointed me – darn, I should've written it when I first had the idea – but it's actually a very good thing. I lost interest because I don't usually feel like this anymore, because everything's been getting better. (I really need these messages of hope right now because a friend of mine is going through some serious depression and I feel the need to broadcast the It Gets Better message, so bear with me.)

I have often worried that life is nothing more than a waiting game. In middle school, I just waited for high school so all my problems would go away. In high school, I waited for the beginning of every marching band season, I waited for summer, but most of all I waited for college. Junior year I found out I was going abroad, and I waited to leave everything I knew, start over, and I assumed that from there everything would be perfect. In France, I just waited to go home. The obvious concern here is this: what if it never does get better? What if I spend my whole life waiting, but happiness is not actually dependent on the particular situation of the present, and I'll never attain it?

But now I'm in college. I've never looked forward to something beyond college – never longed for a family or a grown-up job. So this is the endgame of waiting, the final test to see if the waiting is forever or if it gets fulfilled. And guess what? I'm not waiting anymore. I never catch myself thinking “It'll be better when X is over,” or “It'll be better when I get to do Y.” Sometimes the days pass slowly, because there's too much to do and it can be stressful and overwhelming. More often the days disappear like will-o'-the-wisps, as full of laughter as of stress, fulfilling even when they're wearing. I've only been here two weeks, but I've met some amazing people and I even feel like I belong. A dieu, my life as a martian. Welcome to feeling like a real person. This isn't to say there are never hard moments. I know I'm going to struggle with two of my classes this semester, and some days life just isn't as cheery as I wish it could be. But I'm where I'm supposed to be, in a pretty ideal environment for doing what I want to do.

This has been a scatter-brained three pages. I didn't know what I wanted to say, and life has been overwhelming. But what it comes down to is this: If life sucks, hang on. I believe that it'll get better. I believe that one day you'll be happy where you are. Yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day, and recently I've been hearing about way too many suicides or attempted suicides. I know that sometimes life seems hopeless, but I don't think it is. Even if it takes a really long time to get there, it will get better. Have hope.