Beyond me

Somehow when I first watched Gilmore girls, I thought of the protagonist Rory Gilmore as an insufferable character/person who was so dramatic freaking out because of a D she got in an assignment in high school and years later dropping out of Yale for a while because she got criticised once, mind you, by one person, when she got praised all of her life for how smart and organised of a person she was, showing how spoiled Rory was and how little she was ready to the real world; expecting everyone to praise her all the time and worship her work.

But the second time I watched the show, I realised I only disliked her because her character spoke to me in ways I did not understand before or because I related to her in ways I have forgotten, because guess who dropped out medical school in Montpellier, four to five years ago, just because one person told her that she came too late to catch up on the past courses and that it was impossible for her to pass this year, and guess who used to go berserk if she did not get a good grade in an exam or an assignment.

I thought I left that person behind me a long time ago, only to notice lately that I am still that same person, somehow through my evolution in this life, I have managed to keep and develop the bad traits I have and lose the good ones I had, so maybe I should be more occupied and focused with my own downfall rather than the downfall of feminism or literature or Rory Gilmore.

In another life, I would not put so much pressure on me to be good at everything from the first try, perceive everything as a challenge, as an obligation in which I have to excel at or immediately relinquish and renounce, because this mentality has robbed me of so much fun I could have had and a potential success that could have come with more tries and effort.

I would be at peace with the idea that being good at one thing while trying out a bunch of other things just out of curiosity and adventure, is something acceptable, because now at the age of pretty much 23, I can still sense myself clinging to the old me who used to devour books while now I cannot finish one because of my short attention span, I tried to learn Spanish but gave up every single time for stupid reasons, tried to learn crochet but gave up once again, the minute it got hard, same for swimming, never tried to learn how to drive a motorcycle since the time I thought I would fall off of it. Whatever I try to do, I find myself always giving up on it and I suppose it is the very reason why I am proud of my weblog because it is the only thing I started as an adult and kept on developing without the idea of giving up on it. And it brings my heart so much joy and warmth.

In another life, I would not pressure myself to try to be smart at everything with the fear of missing out on something else, because in the quest of trying to be good at everything, you end not being good at anything really.

I would pick one, science smart or literature and history smart.

I feel like I would have most probably chosen literature and history, majored in journalism may be.

I would not pressure myself to succeed at everything, it is okay, sometimes the experience is worth so much more and the so called success is not really the big prize.

But then, I feel like there are many beautiful things in the world, endless fun occupations, lots of fun jobs and hobbies that I don’t know if I will ever get to experience, sometimes I wish I was Barbie, the girl seems to do it all from princess to barista to a fashion icon, she was even a nurse, a pilot, an aerobics instructor, doing all of that and more while having fun and wearing pink. It’s ridiculous I know but in an ideal universe I would die to be Barbie.

May be I would try to learn to fail, so that I would not, again on the verge of 23, find myself so unprepared for life, for the way the real world crushes you and makes you feel so small and little, for how hard work does not always pay off well all the time, you need a pump of luck.

Growing up in a small city, always being first in my class, being known by everybody for how good I was at “everything” I do, for how studious, smart and dedicated I was, it was for a long time my whole personality and moving on and out to a bigger city, to university, a bigger environment, it was a big change, because what seemed to make me special in a small place, makes me seem just like the rest of other people in a parallel bigger world, where everyone is just as smart as you are or even surpassing you, where everyone is as organised, as dedicated, as hardworking as you are or even more. It is quite intimidating. And what seemed to be your own traits and distinguished you from others, makes you now just as equal and similar to them, not only that, it makes you feel so bad about yourself if you ever cross the path of failure once, because I remember not getting into medical school the first time and how it impacted me then and how it did so for a very long time, how hesitant it had made me, so unsure about every life decision I made, so uncertain about every answer I gave or said out loud. It made me in a constant state of mind and position in which I had to always prove to myself that I was worth the place I occupied and that I was not less smart or less deserving of my place, I did not get in there by luck the second time, just because I failed the first time. It made me take news such as having to take a little radiology exam again as if it was the end of the world, it triggered the insecurities I thought I healed for the past four years in medical school, it made me doubt myself again and regret every fun time I had before the exam because I should have used that time to work and study more, as if I did not deserve all the good time I had before the ‘incident’.

Being the person everyone praised when I was young ruined my adult life because it makes me feel too soft and fragile for a big world.

May be that is why I miss the old me so often and romanticise the past quite a lot, it was a time so calm, so small, so cosy and intimate, not at all scary or unexpected and crushing. I would simply come back from school the afternoons, eat something light while waiting for dinner, enjoy a book I started two days ago and was about to finish tonight after dinner, pick a movie to watch later because I already finished my homework, a homework I know for sure I did excellently and to which I was most probably the only person I found the solution to or in which I gave the best analysis. The next day I would meet my best friend, we’ll have a French class, we sit in the backseats, read books and talk about a random topic while the rest of the class argues if death sentences are a fair punishment or not.

In those different past days in which there was if you think about it a lot of repetitiveness, in a good way, I felt safe and protected from things I did not know about such as failure or the meaning behind what Cristina said in “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” (dir. Woody Allen): “I just have to come face to face with the fact that I am not gifted. I can appreciate art and I love music, but it’s sad, really because I feel like I have a lot to express and I am not gifted.”

When you were young or younger, the idea of not being gifted still has not metamorphosed itself into a weight and you are just happy existing, waiting for a future you think holds so much for you, and it does, but it also breaks you at the same time.

I talked earlier about how not getting into medical school the first time has made me a little of a sensitive person, as a matter of fact it had made me question my whole persona, I genuinely do not know if I am a perseverant person for trying the second time or a fearful coward for dropping out of medical school in Montpellier. I don’t know if I am shy person for excusing people who do me wrong one time or a wise person who understands that things happen sometimes and you have got to wait to see a pattern and then react or if I am a totally paranoid person for not making excuses to a person who did me wrong once because it could have only been the beginning of a pattern.

I confuse me and I am sure I confuse other people with my unexpected character and reactions, not that I care much about what other people see or do not see in me, but somehow it is both fun and frustrating, when a person thinks of you a certain way only to find another one think the total opposite, I am an extrovert to some and introvert to others but I am also a person who suspects everything to some other people and naïve to other ones. I feel like people see right through me, not in a way in which I am invisible but in a way in which they cannot figure me out. I know I am not the only who feels this way, I suppose the beauty of the human complexity resides here, may be that is what Céline in Before Sunrise (dir. Richard Linklater) meant when she said: “If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt. ‘’

I am happy overall with the person I am and the person I have become, If I were to erase all my past mistakes, heartbreaks, failures, who would I be, someone without the wisdom I have gained and the lessons I have learned?

Extracting the lesson with no further guilt about the disappointment I have caused myself and others has got to be the best lesson I have learned so far.

And making peace with my hesitance and doubts, with a full conviction that we all go through phases in which we do feel vulnerable and unsure about our decisions, because life is intimidating, is surely something that makes me sleep well at night, and makes me feel for other people, be more sensitive to them, telepathic in a good non obsessive way. It makes me listen to that person, who hardly ever speaks but are never actually listened to, push them to talk and share more, reveal wonderful ideas they’re too shy and hesitant to say out loud.

And I realise in moments like those, that beyond me, people exist with the same issues I have, and as selfish as it might seem, although it is not my intention for it to be so, I am happy I am not alone in this.