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ysobelleI'm listening to a song from MaryAnne Marino (http://www.maryannemarino.com/) about a young woman going off to "find herself," and I'm thinking, "How come I never felt the need to do that?"
It's not like I didn't actually DO it. Hell, I did the ultimate road trip. And if you haven't found yourself after five years on circuit, there's just no "you" to find. And that was after the four years in the whacked-out circus that was New College, which itself included a year's study in London and various jaunts across Europe. I spent a lot of time with me, and I don't think I did so badly. But I never had any sense that I didn't know who I was. Perhaps it was more that I often turned a corner and found out something new about myself-- but there was never the sense of something missing beforehand.
Perhaps it's just that, being the derided and ridiculed outcast in middle and high school really threw me back on my own defenses entirely too much. I never had time away from me. I lived in my little head most of my life-- which explains the endless parade of therapists, of course. But hey, I'm a single Jewish girl living in a big East Coast city-- of COURSE I have a therapist! (She even came to faire last weekend, though blink and you missed her-- which is a shame, cos man, I know a lot of people she ought to meet. And who should meet her.)
I suppose I've been through enough in my life to at least have some grasp of the larger picture. I know I'm a very lucky girl, and I know I have it pretty good. I also know it's okay to be angry and to grieve for those things I don't have, or those things that went badly. I don't feel the need to wear my pain like a 4th of July bunting, or force it on other people in order to validate myself. When I hurt, I cry. Then I get up and keep moving, whether my eyes are dry or not. When I'm happy, I try to spread it around. When I'm angry, I try also to be just. When there's drama, I try to be diplomatic.
On the whole, this is the me that I have. I didn't find me. I think I was just always...here.
It's not like I didn't actually DO it. Hell, I did the ultimate road trip. And if you haven't found yourself after five years on circuit, there's just no "you" to find. And that was after the four years in the whacked-out circus that was New College, which itself included a year's study in London and various jaunts across Europe. I spent a lot of time with me, and I don't think I did so badly. But I never had any sense that I didn't know who I was. Perhaps it was more that I often turned a corner and found out something new about myself-- but there was never the sense of something missing beforehand.
Perhaps it's just that, being the derided and ridiculed outcast in middle and high school really threw me back on my own defenses entirely too much. I never had time away from me. I lived in my little head most of my life-- which explains the endless parade of therapists, of course. But hey, I'm a single Jewish girl living in a big East Coast city-- of COURSE I have a therapist! (She even came to faire last weekend, though blink and you missed her-- which is a shame, cos man, I know a lot of people she ought to meet. And who should meet her.)
I suppose I've been through enough in my life to at least have some grasp of the larger picture. I know I'm a very lucky girl, and I know I have it pretty good. I also know it's okay to be angry and to grieve for those things I don't have, or those things that went badly. I don't feel the need to wear my pain like a 4th of July bunting, or force it on other people in order to validate myself. When I hurt, I cry. Then I get up and keep moving, whether my eyes are dry or not. When I'm happy, I try to spread it around. When I'm angry, I try also to be just. When there's drama, I try to be diplomatic.
On the whole, this is the me that I have. I didn't find me. I think I was just always...here.