2004-03-30 - 5:32 p.m.
Sometimes, things do get better
A lot’s been going on in the last couple of weeks. I decided not to do a PhD—I’ve finally figured out what I do want to do. That feels wonderful. The bad stuff has been a bad, bad break with my social circle. The short version is that my neighbor has told me outright that because of my past behavior—and I admit I did some stupid, emotionally charged stuff, but it mostly involved acting like a child—I am no longer welcome in his home. He flat out told me that he does not like me and he does not care about anything I say or do. He also made it clear that I cannot, under any circumstances, try to make up for it. It’s done, and he wiped his hands clean long before I confronted him over it.
This caused a whole lot of problems, mostly because he is the center of my social circle. All the photographers hang with him, and I used to hang with all of them. I cannot. KJ insisted that she still wanted to be my friend, but she wasn’t going to choose, blah blah blah. I pointed out to her that I was not the one who was making her choose, and I had no desire to make her choose. I just wanted to be friends with her again. So we made up.
Except we didn’t. It’s been over a week since I last spoke to her on the phone. I passed her in the hall, spoke briefly and pleasantly, then I walked away. I have not called her. She has not called me.
And you know what? I’m OK with that. And this is part of a series of huge, but gradual, revelations about my own life and my own self. I just got back from a session with my therapist, and he mentioned that it sounds like I’m finally comfortable in my own skin. And I am. And it’s amazing.
I’m not lonely. I’m pretty content right now with school and my knitting and spending way too much time in chat. I have a few social acquaintances that I’ll hang out with, go out with, and that’s OK. I don’t need to be “friends” with a group of people who cast me out the second I stop acting the way they want or expect me to act. And I am so fine with that. Sure, it stings, and a lot of it hurts, but I don’t need them anymore. I don’t need anyone, not with that desperation to be liked that I had as recently as three weeks ago.
I have started to accept things, positive things, that people say about me. And I have started to accept certain aspects of my personality that I used to struggle against. For instance, as strange as it sounds, I’m finally accepting, and not just hearing, that I’m intelligent and I’m funny and that I make an excellent impression on people. Yes, I carry myself with confidence, but I always thought it was a huge façade that I put up to hide the shy, scared little girl. The little girl is still there, but she’s moving aside. And I always knew that I was smart, but now I realize that people SEE it, and I don’t have to prove anything. It’s just there, and it’s just me. I don’t need anyone to tell me I’m intelligent or bright—I know it now. For the first time, I feel ambitious and driven, where I used to feel that I was just wishing and dreaming and hoping that something good would come along. It feels weird, but only because it’s different. This fits. I’ve made a decision about a career path, and for the first time in my life it feels like a calling. And in choosing that career path, I am choosing a lifestyle. AND IT FITS. I’m no longer struggling with how to make certain aspects exist with others. Everything is starting to fit.
There are negatives here, too. Well, they’re not horrible negatives, but they’re not exactly altruistic and pretty. I’ve accepted that yes, I like to wear nice clothes and shoes. I like to have nice things. People who look at my fabulous blue bag and my fabulous French scarf (both gifts, I might add) and think, “Oh, look at her, she’s a shallow rich bitch,” can go fuck themselves. They don’t know me. I’m not going to walk into a room and scream, “This cost 300 dollars!” because I think that’s tacky, but I’m not going to “dress down” because I think I should. I have also stopped suffering fools, PERIOD, and that makes me irritable. So I come off like a hard-assed bitch. But the difference is that I don’t care. Sounds harsh, so let me rephrase: I care that people think I’m a bitch, but I’m going to coddle people simply because I don’t want them to think I’m a bitch. Case in point: we’re getting flak for calling our dance a “semi-formal”, because some people don’t want to “dress up”, even though that means swap your jeans and t-shirt for khakis and a button-down. And I basically said, “People can grow the fuck up. Dress like an adult for one night, or don’t come—if we’re spending all this money and doing all this planning, people should respect it. Otherwise, let’s just have a party in a bar.” And that was seen as “bitchy”. Unfortunately for me, the people who agreed with me had to miss the meeting. Hee.
So where did all this come from? I honestly don’t know. Therapy has helped a lot. Chris doesn’t tell me how to think, or what to do, or what’s right or wrong, but talking about it helps. It could also be that I hit bottom, and I had nowhere to go but up—I think back to four weeks ago, when I wanted to drive and drive and drive until I finally went off a cliff so I wouldn’t have to deal with anything anymore, and I don’t want to go back there. But that right there was hitting bottom. I had to fail before I could succeed.
When I made my decision about the PhD, one of my professors, who fully supports my decision, said that being an adult is taking a risk like that and not following the chosen path when you know absolutely know it is not right, even though it’s the way you’re “supposed” to go. And I have grown up a lot in the past few months. I had to go through a lot of pain to get here, and I’m not done yet, not by a long shot, but I’m proud of the strides I’ve made.
Chris says I have wisdom. I protested that I have to live another 20 years or so to achieve that. He disagreed, and he told me that I’ve gone through pain, and that others have shaped my life, and I have learned from all of that pain and shaping. And you know what? I think he just might be right.
