threadwalker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
threadwalker) wrote2007-08-10 01:47 pm
threadwalker) wrote2007-08-10 01:47 pm
Ghost from the Adolescent past
When do we leave our past behind and forge a new "self"? It's one thing to accept the past and use it to build a positive future by learning from it and making choices as we move onward. But what happens when you have to go back and visit?
Perhaps we slip on our old insecurities like a moth-eaten sweater that's been waiting for us in the back of the closet. And as we slip into the sweater we rediscover the familiar saggy pockets full of memories and painful moments we've tried to foget. We run our fingers up the front to be reminded of the missing buttons that never got replaced and the opportunities we can never reclaim. Altenately, we fiercely reject those insecurities from the past and thinking we're leaving the sweater in our closet, our denial actually drives us to new behaviour as we try to demonstrate they have no power over us. The irony is that we show how strongly our insecurities compel us when we reject them and act differently.
My high school 20th is coming up and I am contemplating the ghosts of "Adolescence Past".
I went to a school full of fiscally privledged upper social class girls who excelled at academics, athletics and who vacationed all over the world. It was like going to school with a pack of smart barbie dolls who could do calculus in the morning, write a thesis after lunch and then play collegiate level soccer/softball/etc after school. Almost everyone was blond or streaked (these were the "Material Girl" days, afterall), they were all good looking, and they all had the confidence that comes from knowing you have a respected place in the world. There was one small pack of goths, but they didn't stand out as "cool", they seemed to be misplaced and ineffective in their gothy rebellion. Yet, they had a clique, so I didn't feel sorry for them.
On the otherhand my high school niche was loner and, sadly, not as cool as Winona in "Heathers". I was poor, bookish, intelligent, and socially awkward. The death throes of my parents marriage overlapped my high school years and neither one probably ever considered protecting us from the ugly side; in fact, I'd say they used us to hurt each other. So in addition to being a geek, I had a very strong streak of bitter, angry cynicism. I was the stereo-typical kid who was tollerated, but not included and who did not have any close friends; the group I hung out with frequently ditched me or left me off their invite lists for parties.
Now, 20 years later I got an email saying the reunion was coming up. Viewing the past from the wrong end of the telescope, what does going to this party mean? Thinking about it churned up a lot of emotions and I found myself inadvertantly wearing that old sweater with its saggy pockets full of hurts and teen angst. I asked myself, why bother going at all? afterall, I blew off my senior prom. I blew off the 10 year reunion. I have nothing to prove since I'm fairly certain no one had any expectations of me. In fact, I'll be shocked if anyone remembers me. What is the point of going?
Then I got the official invite in the mail and there was a picture of the entire class of '87 on it. I couldn't even find myself at first because I forgot I'd cut my hair off (short as a boys!@!) and I wasn't standing with my "friends" at the time. I realized that I don't recall at least 1/3 of those faces and there were only 125 students in my class. Clearly my self-centered memory of the world being out to get me is a bit over-dramatized if I can't even remember some of those faces.
I keep seeing the picture in my mind and wondering about who I was and who I've become. I'm not that short-haired lonely girl in the corner. I also wonder about who those other girls were and what kind of women did they have become. I put the moth-eaten sweater of my adolescent past away last night. I decided that I'd be going as a tourist and see if there might be an opportunity to reconnect with a few of the people I have nice memories of. I am also going to keep my eyes open without predjudice of the past and try to learn who my classmates have become and perhaps I will make a few new friends.
Perhaps we slip on our old insecurities like a moth-eaten sweater that's been waiting for us in the back of the closet. And as we slip into the sweater we rediscover the familiar saggy pockets full of memories and painful moments we've tried to foget. We run our fingers up the front to be reminded of the missing buttons that never got replaced and the opportunities we can never reclaim. Altenately, we fiercely reject those insecurities from the past and thinking we're leaving the sweater in our closet, our denial actually drives us to new behaviour as we try to demonstrate they have no power over us. The irony is that we show how strongly our insecurities compel us when we reject them and act differently.
My high school 20th is coming up and I am contemplating the ghosts of "Adolescence Past".
I went to a school full of fiscally privledged upper social class girls who excelled at academics, athletics and who vacationed all over the world. It was like going to school with a pack of smart barbie dolls who could do calculus in the morning, write a thesis after lunch and then play collegiate level soccer/softball/etc after school. Almost everyone was blond or streaked (these were the "Material Girl" days, afterall), they were all good looking, and they all had the confidence that comes from knowing you have a respected place in the world. There was one small pack of goths, but they didn't stand out as "cool", they seemed to be misplaced and ineffective in their gothy rebellion. Yet, they had a clique, so I didn't feel sorry for them.
On the otherhand my high school niche was loner and, sadly, not as cool as Winona in "Heathers". I was poor, bookish, intelligent, and socially awkward. The death throes of my parents marriage overlapped my high school years and neither one probably ever considered protecting us from the ugly side; in fact, I'd say they used us to hurt each other. So in addition to being a geek, I had a very strong streak of bitter, angry cynicism. I was the stereo-typical kid who was tollerated, but not included and who did not have any close friends; the group I hung out with frequently ditched me or left me off their invite lists for parties.
Now, 20 years later I got an email saying the reunion was coming up. Viewing the past from the wrong end of the telescope, what does going to this party mean? Thinking about it churned up a lot of emotions and I found myself inadvertantly wearing that old sweater with its saggy pockets full of hurts and teen angst. I asked myself, why bother going at all? afterall, I blew off my senior prom. I blew off the 10 year reunion. I have nothing to prove since I'm fairly certain no one had any expectations of me. In fact, I'll be shocked if anyone remembers me. What is the point of going?
Then I got the official invite in the mail and there was a picture of the entire class of '87 on it. I couldn't even find myself at first because I forgot I'd cut my hair off (short as a boys!@!) and I wasn't standing with my "friends" at the time. I realized that I don't recall at least 1/3 of those faces and there were only 125 students in my class. Clearly my self-centered memory of the world being out to get me is a bit over-dramatized if I can't even remember some of those faces.
I keep seeing the picture in my mind and wondering about who I was and who I've become. I'm not that short-haired lonely girl in the corner. I also wonder about who those other girls were and what kind of women did they have become. I put the moth-eaten sweater of my adolescent past away last night. I decided that I'd be going as a tourist and see if there might be an opportunity to reconnect with a few of the people I have nice memories of. I am also going to keep my eyes open without predjudice of the past and try to learn who my classmates have become and perhaps I will make a few new friends.
no subject
This imagery is reminding me very strongly of Talis Kimberley's Small Mended Corners -- dunno if the musical style is to your taste, but I think you might like the lyrics. Here are the lyrics on the artist's website. (http://www.talis.net/songs/smallmnd.htm) And here's (http://www.tradebit.com/filedetail.php/1548431) an MP3, although I don't know if it's an authorized offering.
Or I could just lend you the CD. I quite like the album as a whole.