I was having a conversation with an old friend the other day - the kind of friend you've known almost all your life and the kind of conversation that yields confessions and leads you way too far down memory lane. At the end of it I didn't exactly get the warm, fuzzy feeling one gets after revisiting their giddy childhood days. I felt burdened. I had to remember what kind of child I was, what kind of adolescent, teen, and eventually, what kind of adult I had turned in to today.
I've always beat myself down over how I've become such a skeptic - defensively pessimistic, is what I'd prefer actually. I'm painfully aware of how others perceive this new me, and how I sometimes give in to the temptation of becoming exactly what they think I am - an angry, brooding monster. After deliberating, though, I've concluded that that's not who I am at all.
You see, as I sat and reminisced that day, long after the "ttyl" and "tc's" were exchanged, I ran a mental self-evaluation. Who was I in Kindergarten? Junior high? High school? College? Now? The answers that formed in my head immediately made me cringe, but I decided it was time to face the truth. In Kindergarten I was a straight arrow. I knew how to spell big words like "Wednesday" before everyone else and the teacher chose me as class monitor on more than one occasion for good reason. I was a rule enforcer, and once I actually made a kid sit on the trash can because he wouldn't shut up.
Junior high came with its newly discovered concept of cliques and the popular vs. unpopular crowd. Although there were exceptions (and I still love those dear exceptional friends of mine), there was an unspoken line dividing the Arabs and the rest of us. The guys who had once written in my autograph book (yes, I was one of those lame-o's who got everyone to sign it at the end of each year) how fun the year had been and how cool I was, barely said two words to me all year. The "popular" girls flocked together, wore make-up, hung out with the boys, and spoke in a language none of us understood. Well, apart from the curse words. I was still trying my best to be an A-student, but social pressures were confusing me. I was torn between course books and understanding what made the popular girls so popular. I wasn't afraid to stand up to the popular kids, which, to me, had pretty much sealed my fate. Yet, I secretly wished I was sitting in the "cool spot" with them, surrounded by a large crowd, laughing loudly at something funny a guy had just said. I felt like I was stuck in the backseat of a car, staring out at the vibrancy of middle school life like this mutt below.
High school was when I actually got my first chance to start over. I changed schools and ended up with only a handful of people who knew me from my old one. I went through several different phases during the course of high school- blue spiky hair, hard rock music, hair-straightening girly girl, gym addict, dance concert enthusiast - you name it! Of course, the whole concept of popular vs. everyone else existed here too, but since it was an all-girls' school, it was easier to pretend. I said and did things that I thought were what the "popular" girls would say and do. If I were to sum up who I was during that era in one word, it would be "pretentious". No, that is not a harsh self-judgment at all. To be fair, though, I was still not sure who I wanted to be.
I saw dental college back home as a second chance to start over and hopped aboard with a big, happy-go-lucky grin and a clean slate. Stupid, stupid move. Although I forged great friendships during that time, managed to revert back to being the straight-arrow daughter that parents pray for, and had just the right mixture of safe and risky fun, I let my guard down way too low and failed to develop the ability to measure intentions. By the end of dental school, I found myself entangled in one big mess of a relationship, realizing a little too late that, indeed, not everything that glitters is gold, and not everyone that wants to rip you apart will come bearing that sign on their forehead.
Happy, friendly, trusting, giving, and forgiving was forced to swallow a grenade that blew her up from within. Some thought it was the end of me, but what most still don't know was that by refusing to accept my forlorn fate, I'd actually created my very own third chance to start over, to rise back up from the ashes.
There were setbacks, sure. I found myself incapable of trusting anyone. I still question the very foundation of the institution that almost broke me. I'm still very far from reaching the goals I set for myself, but I'm getting there. I am...evolving. Angry and brooding? Sure, but can you blame me? Monster? No way. Pessimist? Not exactly. So who am I now? I'm a mother, first and foremost - one who is still learning. I'm an artist - I craft, not bake, my cakes, I write stories and begin novels on my computer, and I take pictures with my phone that deserve to be taken with nothing less than an 85mm lens. I hate classic literature, and prefer losing myself in fantasy instead. I'm still a rock chick, but embrace all genres. I hate sappy romantic flicks because that's really not what happens in real life (seriously!). I don't scramble to please anymore. I don't let what people will think or say govern my actions. I do what I see fit and I stand by my beliefs fiercely. I'm superstitious and private but when I need to, I voice my opinions and express my anger unabridged. I don't swallow bitter pills, I chew the hell out of them. I'm aggressive, passionate, liberalist, secretive, multilingual, and not afraid to be on my own. I do believe I'm not done with the evolution part, and perhaps I will keep at least one of my masks on till the very end, but here I am. Sans affectation. Persistent. Self-reliant. Recalcitrant. Everything that would make one unstoppable. If this isn't natural selection, I don't know what is.
I've always beat myself down over how I've become such a skeptic - defensively pessimistic, is what I'd prefer actually. I'm painfully aware of how others perceive this new me, and how I sometimes give in to the temptation of becoming exactly what they think I am - an angry, brooding monster. After deliberating, though, I've concluded that that's not who I am at all.
You see, as I sat and reminisced that day, long after the "ttyl" and "tc's" were exchanged, I ran a mental self-evaluation. Who was I in Kindergarten? Junior high? High school? College? Now? The answers that formed in my head immediately made me cringe, but I decided it was time to face the truth. In Kindergarten I was a straight arrow. I knew how to spell big words like "Wednesday" before everyone else and the teacher chose me as class monitor on more than one occasion for good reason. I was a rule enforcer, and once I actually made a kid sit on the trash can because he wouldn't shut up.
Junior high came with its newly discovered concept of cliques and the popular vs. unpopular crowd. Although there were exceptions (and I still love those dear exceptional friends of mine), there was an unspoken line dividing the Arabs and the rest of us. The guys who had once written in my autograph book (yes, I was one of those lame-o's who got everyone to sign it at the end of each year) how fun the year had been and how cool I was, barely said two words to me all year. The "popular" girls flocked together, wore make-up, hung out with the boys, and spoke in a language none of us understood. Well, apart from the curse words. I was still trying my best to be an A-student, but social pressures were confusing me. I was torn between course books and understanding what made the popular girls so popular. I wasn't afraid to stand up to the popular kids, which, to me, had pretty much sealed my fate. Yet, I secretly wished I was sitting in the "cool spot" with them, surrounded by a large crowd, laughing loudly at something funny a guy had just said. I felt like I was stuck in the backseat of a car, staring out at the vibrancy of middle school life like this mutt below.
High school was when I actually got my first chance to start over. I changed schools and ended up with only a handful of people who knew me from my old one. I went through several different phases during the course of high school- blue spiky hair, hard rock music, hair-straightening girly girl, gym addict, dance concert enthusiast - you name it! Of course, the whole concept of popular vs. everyone else existed here too, but since it was an all-girls' school, it was easier to pretend. I said and did things that I thought were what the "popular" girls would say and do. If I were to sum up who I was during that era in one word, it would be "pretentious". No, that is not a harsh self-judgment at all. To be fair, though, I was still not sure who I wanted to be.
I saw dental college back home as a second chance to start over and hopped aboard with a big, happy-go-lucky grin and a clean slate. Stupid, stupid move. Although I forged great friendships during that time, managed to revert back to being the straight-arrow daughter that parents pray for, and had just the right mixture of safe and risky fun, I let my guard down way too low and failed to develop the ability to measure intentions. By the end of dental school, I found myself entangled in one big mess of a relationship, realizing a little too late that, indeed, not everything that glitters is gold, and not everyone that wants to rip you apart will come bearing that sign on their forehead.
Happy, friendly, trusting, giving, and forgiving was forced to swallow a grenade that blew her up from within. Some thought it was the end of me, but what most still don't know was that by refusing to accept my forlorn fate, I'd actually created my very own third chance to start over, to rise back up from the ashes.
There were setbacks, sure. I found myself incapable of trusting anyone. I still question the very foundation of the institution that almost broke me. I'm still very far from reaching the goals I set for myself, but I'm getting there. I am...evolving. Angry and brooding? Sure, but can you blame me? Monster? No way. Pessimist? Not exactly. So who am I now? I'm a mother, first and foremost - one who is still learning. I'm an artist - I craft, not bake, my cakes, I write stories and begin novels on my computer, and I take pictures with my phone that deserve to be taken with nothing less than an 85mm lens. I hate classic literature, and prefer losing myself in fantasy instead. I'm still a rock chick, but embrace all genres. I hate sappy romantic flicks because that's really not what happens in real life (seriously!). I don't scramble to please anymore. I don't let what people will think or say govern my actions. I do what I see fit and I stand by my beliefs fiercely. I'm superstitious and private but when I need to, I voice my opinions and express my anger unabridged. I don't swallow bitter pills, I chew the hell out of them. I'm aggressive, passionate, liberalist, secretive, multilingual, and not afraid to be on my own. I do believe I'm not done with the evolution part, and perhaps I will keep at least one of my masks on till the very end, but here I am. Sans affectation. Persistent. Self-reliant. Recalcitrant. Everything that would make one unstoppable. If this isn't natural selection, I don't know what is.
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