Sunday, September 13, 2009

how can people know you, if you don't know you? part III/trois

Once upon a time, I wrote a blog entry.

It was called how can other people know you, if you don't know you?

In this entry, I focused on how often people misinform other people about their personality... they tell people about the individual they think they are, because they have yet to realize that there's another individual existing... that being, their real selves. Too often, when the condensed, Campbell's soup version of us does not match the reality of us, people get frustrated, and things occur due to that frustration. (Such as broken friendships, ended romantic engagements, etc.)

This past year, I've been learning myself... the reality of me that everyone else gets to see, not the version of me that I've been telling everyone about. You, of course, are along for the ride.

More things I thought about myself that are truly erroneous:
1. I'm a model driver: Don't get me wrong--I am a great driver. Not conventionally, of course. (Not many things in my life are conventional.) I am a careful driver--I always look before backing out, at least two or three times... I scan the driving landscape constantly. I pull over when ambulances and fire trucks need to get by... and I don't run from the police. Promise.

But, I am an arrogant, lead-foot of a driver. I tailgate, I stare at people in their mirrors and mouth filthy things to them when they are not driving up to my standard, and I speed around people when they are not going fast enough for me. I do not drive the speed limit. Well, I do sometimes... but that's usually when I've scanned the landscape and found that there's a police officer or state trooper in the midst. Although I'm a speeder and tailgater, I grow clearly aggravated when other people return this behavior to me. This usually results in me using more filthy language. It doesn't really matter who you are--friend, family, coworker, or boss: if you're not driving to Malorie's standard, you'll know... when I bypass you and kick up dust in your path.

2. I'm really going to scrapbook all my mementos: This is a lie. Repeat: this is a lie.

All the papers and newspaper clippings I've saved from high school to college are now reposing in my closet. I have about two or three scrapbooks, and I have not completed one of them. Every time I sit down and try to do so, the desire leaves me. There's something about sitting still, looking at all the memories that just... I don't know how to describe it. The memories are marvelous and plentiful, but I just don't enjoy sitting there looking at all of them and trying to fit them into neat little categories. I am not a fan of this.

3. I HATED college: It makes me relatively upset to think about, because for the longest time, this has been my story to everyone. It was the reason I came home so much you'd think I went to UCF, it was the reason I graduated in three years, blah blah f-ing blah. It was the reason, but not the truth.

The truth of the matter, to my late discovery, is that I was living inside of an unfortunate condition known as dissatisfaction. I was dissatisfied with everything around me: with my friends, with my relationship status (or lack thereof), with my place of living, with college itself. And the reason I suffered such dissatisfaction, was because I was so internally dissatisfied. My extreme lack of confidence and love for myself transferred over to just about every area of my life.

At times, my surroundings tried to break the hold of dissatisfaction, and at times, my surroundings succeeded. I still remember that day I watched the April sun set over Payne's Prairie like it was a blazing July evening. I remember the way the trees used to shimmy in the wind while I walked to class, and I still remember the way the old brick buildings tried to charm a bit of love out of my heart. Despite all the good times I had, and despite the fact that something bigger inside of me realized the happiness that was trying to fight its way out of my heart (picture The Grinch Who Stole Christmas and his heart trying to grow within its confines), I refused to fully acknowledge this happiness. Even when it was pretty obvious.

So, I left school in such a hurry that for everything I did do, there were at least two things I didn't do. Probably because I was so busy focusing on my boredom with Gainesville and college that I couldn't have found room in my head to think of these things. Jumping through the fountain near Ustler/Murphree Hall. Taking pictures at Emerson in front of Albert and Alberta. Didn't go to the Umoja ceremony for graduates, and didn't get a Kente cloth stole for my robe. Didn't go to any graduation barbeques. Didn't go downtown and drink to celebrate. Didn't drink at all. (I was way too above this behavior, or so I led myself to believe.) I packed up as quickly as I could and left faster than the wind. And now, something you'll rarely hear me admit: I kinda wished I would have seen through my dissatisfaction and enjoyed every second I spent there. Because those are seconds I can now, only relive in memories of what could have been, had I given it a chance.

4. I am shy: No, I'm not. And don't let me tell you I am.

For some reason, I can only remember myself as a child through one lens: one of a quiet, shy child. Why I have chosen to remember myself this way, I'm not sure. But it's a pretty one-dimensional view. In school, I was quiet and respectful, of course. But I always had plenty of friends, was always involved in discussions, and always laughing, a trait that has followed me to the present day.

I am not shy, I just don't need to always have the attention on me. But when I want it on me, oh, I want it. If you've gone out with me or drank with me, you can bear witness to this phenomenon. At almost 5'11" it's pretty useless for me to be shy or to try and hide... because I'm always going to be seen. And I carry myself in a way that asks to be seen. I wear heels. I walk with my head high, confidence on blast. Working with kids has brought out an ability to be less embarrassed about being embarrassed. I've been speaking in front of crowds since I was a kid (school plays, essay contests, projects), and I've made a career out of working with people... which involves speaking to them. I know I'm not shy. I do have shame, but I'm not shy. So the next time you hear me say this, tell me to be quiet.

Until I realize some more things... I'll be thinking...


Anonymous said...

"I kinda wished I would have seen through my dissatisfaction and enjoyed every second I spent there. Because those are seconds I can now, only relive in memories of what could have been, had I given it a chance."

Thank you for this. As I find myself in a similar situation and nearing the end of college soon, this is raw, honest, motivating and exactly what I needed to hear.

Miss Malorie said...

My dear, you are more than welcome. I'm glad that you stumbled across words that could motivate you. Enjoy the time while you have it... of course, I didn't realize it until I was gone, but I enjoyed the nuances of college living (even the aggravating parts lol). Since I didn't give it a chance, I like to tell others to do what I didn't. :)

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