It's okay ...

A member of the wonderful class of 2016, Alison Carey was in two of my classes, AP Language and Honors English 12.  Passionate, intuitive, and self-aware, she did great work in both courses, including a memorable Capstone Project that involved writing a dozen poem/songs all centered around Sylvia Plath’s novel The Bell Jar.

After reading Alison’s post, it occurred to me how much time we spend setting goals for ourselves. We have our lists, our planners, our resolutions. Americans in particular it seems are deeply committed to the concept of self-help. We love the hustle. We love to feel ourselves getting better, checking boxes, working and working to close the gap between our Flawed Selves and our elusive Best Selves/

Alison’s post reminds us that sometimes you need to take a breath, tally things up, look in the mirror, and accept yourself for exactly what and who you are. While at certain times in your life it might make sense to strive for improvement, other times it feels right to be more like our old friend Walt Whitman, who famously wrote, “I exist as I am, that is enough” (Song of Myself, section 20). When Alison was in my class over those two years, I got the distinct sense that she was in the process of this kind of self-acceptance project.

Since graduating from high school, Alison has been pursuing an Environmental Studies degree at Wellesley College in Massachusetts. Like so many, her college experience is framed by her commitment to athletics: she wakes up at 4:30 every morning to row on the beautiful Charles River. Currently, she is spending a semester abroad in a program focused on climate change in Vietnam, Morocco, and Bolivia, where she is studying the politics of food, water, and energy.

Alison’s piece is about accepting all aspects of yourself. “This post is about taking the time to recognize that all of the feelings that come with growing up and learning about yourself and the world are valid,” she said.

The first time I ever felt truly understood by a movie was watching “13 Going on 30” as a middle schooler. Maybe it was my confusing crush on both Jennifer Garner and Mark Ruffalo at the same time (and all of the shoes in her glamorous NYC apartment closet, wow!!), but I think there was something deeper within me that that film reflected. I was young and I wanted to be old. It’s been six years since I entered high school and sure enough, I am still young and I still want to be old. What could be better than an established and successful career, the big closet full of fancy clothes, the true love, the California king bed, and the sweet dose of nostalgia that comes with looking back at your past self who wanted more than anything to BE YOU.

As a young and gangly human, I didn’t have any concept of what my high school or early college years had in store for me. Dealing with the massive identity crisis of truly being a 30 year old in a 13-year-old’s body, I sought validation for the maturity I thought I harbored and I felt hollow and humbled by my lack of life experience. At that point, I’d seen what happened if you sat under the pixie dust and wished to be “30 and flirty and thriving” and I wanted that more than anything.

This feeling has stuck with me through a first kiss and a first love, a discovery of identity and a discovery of bias (and another one, and another one), a move across the country and a winter spent in an unfamiliar city, a tearful first goodbye to my family and a bittersweet bout with the realities of freedom, a first experience with rocky mental health, a first D on a quiz ever, a few privilege checks, and a whole world of new friendships and experiences.

If I had I skipped over these important landmarks in my life, I don’t think I would understand or know myself in the least. Labels I have acquired since the age of 13 include but are not limited to: queer, feminist, athlete, social justice advocate, teammate, listener, leader, and work in progress. While these are aspects of my character, I’ve learned that my outward traits don’t always represent the parts of myself that I hold dearest to my heart. Humans are complicated and multifaceted and it’s through our lived experiences that we build our sense of self.

13-year-old me would have NO idea why my college friends call me Steve. 13-year-old me would never believe that I can run a mile in under 8 minutes or flip tires or hang clean for fun. 13-year-old me didn’t know about the truly harmful effects of fracking and hadn’t yet developed an intimate relationship with Mother Earth. 13-year-old me hadn’t learned about the significance of calling your professors by their first names. 13-year-old me definitely didn’t know the freedom that is felt when you’re able to shed your hard-shelled exterior and get soft and vulnerable with people who care about your well-being deeply. I can’t imagine glazing over these years of my life in a search for an arbitrary sense of grown-up-ness.

It’s okay to feel young and to feel like a fake adult. It’s okay to sit with discomfort. It’s important to learn from critical feedback. It’s okay to have awkward stages. It’s okay if those awkward stages persist into your kind-of-half-adult stages. It’s okay to make space for an entirely new you to emerge out of those uncomfortable and challenging moments. It’s okay to lean on friends and it’s okay to feel alone. Beyond all of that, your feelings are valid! My nostalgia for the life I have not yet lived fuels me and recharges my ambitions. I’ll be 30 in 10 years. Life is wild.