Resolving to Change the Things I Cannot Change

I have a letter from my high school lacrosse coach that I keep next to my bed and read from time to time. It's a copy of the recommendation letter he sent to Harvard. In it, he says that I will never let anyone down, disappoint or embarrass them. But the more I think about it, the more I sometimes wonder whether that's really true.

I feel like I've lived my life trying to live up to other people's expectations. Only recently did I add in my own. And yes, I may be one of the most driven people others say they've ever met, but for what? And to what? And at what point do I have to say no, I'll just get in my own way?

I don't think you can change everything about a person. I think there are some things inherent that can't be changed. But when they're flaws and weaknesses and make you stand out, what then? I refuse to believe that I'm condemned for lack of perfection-- that the things I am afraid of or know to be weaknesses are curses that doom me to a certain existence or future. But if everything isn't malleable... then I wonder how to change my fate.

And in a way, I then wish I could be like all those other people who fit in and don't stand out. The normal ones, the popular ones.

But that never was me, and moving forward, I'm not sure if it ever could be.

"I get by with a little help from my friends"

As I reflect on life, I find myself coming to the same conclusion over and over again-- that friends are really one of the most important things in the world. Whenever anything else goes wrong in life, be it work, love, or family, they're the ones who are there for you and who love you no matter what-- like family, but a vast extensive network. It's something I find that I remind myself of often-- partly because I think I'm still in disbelief that it's really true, and partly because, when life gets tough, friends keep you going.

A Manifesto, Of Sorts

Contrary to what some people may think, I am distinctly not perfect. I have had knee, ankle, and heart problems, all by the time I was 20. I've struggled with my anxiety for years, though I'm learning to accept it as a part of me. I never went to public school, always had my house cleaned by our cleaning lady (Violet, then Anna), and have freckles and the occasional breakout. My hair takes around 24 hours to dry when wet, and while I own lots of makeup and I guess could spend a lot of time on my appearance, it's not something I choose to focus on. I'd rather sleep late than get up early to get ready. I've been collecting baseball cards since I was 5, and used to work backstage at rock concerts. In 7th grade, I befriended one of the deans for life after talking about the NCAA tournament with him for over an hour (and the respective strengths of UCONN vs UMASS vs Kentucky). My first time operating a light board was in the 5th grade. At one point, I'd also seen nearly every show playing on Broadway, and my family has season tickets to the Giants. Also in 5th grade, my dad yelled at me for getting an 86 on a science test. I graduated with honors and was nominated for the Hoopes Prize from Harvard, but I could've done better if I had really focused on academics. I was never a part of any sorority, and I don't think I've ever had a truly healthy relationship. I've been cheated on more times than I care to count, on top of everything else.

But these pieces, amongst others, all make up me. While I try not to talk about them and often pretend that they aren't there to the outside world, they are distinctly a part of who I am. In the end, I don't think all the little details matter. It's more "take me as I am or leave me." There are things in my life that I can't change and that I never had any control over. I just believe that the pieces all were put together to bring me to this point and to bring me to whatever comes next.

At the same time, when I look at the past, the details explain a lot of what has become the present. I = a combination of all the little things. A lot of them definitely left a mark. I just hope you can accept me in spite of some of the "flaws" or the ideosyncracies. I am unique, even when I try to be like everybody else. The quote, "Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out? " crosses my mind. All I want is acceptance. But if I can't get that, then at least I need to accept myself and continue to put the real complete me out there. And hope that's enough for you.

The Stuff We Leave Behind

One thing I both love and hate about being home is looking around my room. I feel like my room really tells me who I am. Having lived here my whole life, there's not much I can hide about who I am. Since I never throw anything out, I have so many pieces of my past here, even if they're pieces I may have forgotten.

I have my thousands of baseball cards, most of my artwork, my playbills from all of the RRS productions, autographed concert passes, my soccer and softball trophies, and a picture of me on the 8th grade bike trip, amongst others. It's nice, in a way, to be surrounded by me, but there's also something very scary and vulnerable about it-- when we leave home, we can create whomever we want to be and reinvent ourselves. We can live as that person for a long time. But eventually and inevitably, that person we've been since youth pops up somewhere. Going back here, I'm reminded of her. I'm still that person, and I'm not ashamed of that, but in a way, being here is proof of my life. It says, "This is me," loudly and clearly.

On existentialism, new years resolutions, and laziness

I got in a conversation with my roommate tonight about the existentialism class I took freshman year of college, that, while singlehandedly setting back my GPA, significantly affected my outlook on life. But after spending an evening that I desperately wanted to be productive sitting on the couch, I started to wonder: suppose you say you really want to start living your life tomorrow. Does that entitle you to spend the night on the couch now? Laziness feels wonderful and irresistible.

At the same time though, there are so many things I want to do and so many ways in which I want to be better. I guess there's an argument that they're sorta like new years resolutions this time of year, and that if I were really serious about them I could find the motivation to do them, but still... when so much of the rest of my life takes so much energy, it's nice to be lazy sometimes.

Still, there are things I do in fact want to get done and do better this year. I need to get back in shape, for one. I miss feeling like a varsity athlete and pushing myself in that way. Even if I'm not sure I'm allowed to run, I still want to be able to make it through a difficult workout without being completely pulverized like I used to be able to do. I started doing some exercises tonight, and I want to keep it up.

I'd like to be neater. I want to actually clean things and do dishes and feel sorta uncluttered for once.

And finally, I'd like to spend a little more time NOT sitting on the couch in front of the TV. Cooking, songwriting, reading... I don't want to feel like I'm being lazy. I remember the time when I felt that every moment had to matter-- and the moments have been so great, I don't want to let them laze by.

Thinking Back

Every Thanksgiving I try to take a few minutes to reflect back upon the last year. While I realize I'm a day late this year, I still wanted to take a moment, because I realize that so much of what I have now (and what my life is now) is completely different from a year ago. It makes the title of this blog, "Wanderings of a Harvard Graduate," seem more fitting than it might otherwise be. I think I really have wandered... and am still wandering.

I am staggered that a year ago, I was living in a different town in a different apartment, and that I barely knew (or didn't know) many of the people who are today some of my closest friends. I didn't have this support system, and my job... it was two jobs ago, and feels like a lifetime away. Since then, I've moved forward in every way and found myself. I don't think my core has changed, but I do think that I am stronger. Much stronger than I ever imagined I could be.

It has been an extremely challenging year. Not having my grandfather at Thanksgiving hurt more than I thought it would, though I suppose he wasn't well enough to attend last year either. There are still lots of questions about and within my life that remain unanswered... which is why I am so thankful for my life, the people in it, and the direction things have taken in the last year. I could never have predicted it-- just as I am sure I will not be able to predict what will happen in the year to come.

With fire in her eyes,
me

"I think we just moved way past complicated" - The Holiday

Have I sacrificed what I want, or do I just want something new? This has all moved way past complicated. In everything.