Who Are You?
Define Yourself
Here’s the nice thing about getting older and wiser (no, it’s not my birthday): You stop giving a f!uck about what other people say. Sure, if someone says something hurtful it still probably hurts, but that fear of people not understanding you or people not loving you sort of becomes less distinct. It’s like you wake up and are like, “Whatever.”
Sometimes I hate popular society, because right now we are obsessed more than ever with fame and fortune. It’s like people have no value unless they are famous, successful or beautiful. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate anyone for having money or success, and you know I love a pretty face. But when did we stop appreciating some of the quieter ways of living? Are they no longer precious? How do we define these things anyway?
When I was a young teenager, I wanted to buy a Winnebago and travel the country, Road Rules Style.
I wanted to live in Los Angelos with my best friend, form a band, and get an apartment and fill it with Spider Plants and colored glass ashtrays.
At one point-as I got older-I didn’t care where I went, as long as I was writing about it and being honest and free. I didn’t care about impressing people with my career or settling down and having a “respectable” life.
And I get it: you can’t eat from your dreams. I have a car, an apartment, bills to pay, beauty products to buy. I want to start a retirement fund and I wish I had money to give to my parents as a thank-you for being so good to me. But sometimes, I miss that girl who defined her own happiness and didn’t care if other people understood it.
So after much thought, I’m taking her back, because she had the right idea. No, I’m not getting a mobile home and driving to Tijuana. What I am doing is publicly saying that you should make your own rules! What makes you happy? What fills you with joy? Who are you trying to please and why?
Remember when Fiona Apple made that speech at the MTV awards? Let this jog your memory.
Fiona got a lot of slack for that speech, which shows how moronic people are. Anyone with intelligence can understand that she is saying that we shouldn’t let a bunch of celebrities and their PR reps dictate how we live. We need to figure that shit out ourselves, right?
But back to what I was saying.
There are specific things I want to do with my time, my life. I thought with age people would stop giving me their two-cents about it and just accept the choices I make, but now I realize there will always be someone with the two-cents and there will always be someone who disapproves of your choices. I.Don’t.Care.
This week I found out I didn’t get into Teaching America. Frankly, I was relieved., because I don’t want to be a teacher. I applied to it because I wanted to a clear path to another city. I applied because I wanted a guaranteed decent paycheck for two-years. I applied because I love freelancing, but it doesn’t pay very much. But that’s not a good reason to go for a job, especially one like that. There are so many who really want to teach who can’t get jobs right now. It wouldn’t have been right to take a spot from them. Even if I did get in, I don’t think I would have accepted.
And this whole be honest about what you want doesn’t just go for careers or where you live. It can apply to what you eat, who you date, who you associate with and how you spend your time. Question yourself. Are you on the right path? Because the last thing you want is to get on your death bed and realize, “Shit, I took a wrong turn.” Make your life authentic. Create your own rhythm. Embrace your strangeness. You’ll probably have less wrinkles for it.
Thus endeth the rant and lesson. Let me know about decisions you’re making, your ideals, desires, yada yada yada. I love hearing your stories.
