The title of this blog post is most likely your response to the content of this blog post.
Apologies are indeed in order, since I have taken an entire month and a half break away from writing on here. This is mainly because I am a college student and because a lot of my energy towards writing has been dedicated to writing for Rookie. However, a month isn’t nearly long enough to forget the adventures I’ve had in college thus far!
In high school I had a lot of trouble making friends (if you’ve read my earlier blog posts, this is evident). Making friends in college has been actually quite effortless. I’ve been able to be the best version of myself in college. My independence is thriving in an environment where vulnerability caused by unfamiliarity is quite inevitable. I don’t feel vulnerable at all. I feel powerful.
One of my mother’s most repetitive and emphasized phrases is, “You’re different, honey, and they don’t like that.”
Through middle school and high school I faced a lot of negativity from my peers. People were my friends and all of a sudden they weren’t; some others did not even give me the golden chance of friendship. Up until my junior year I was very cautious of my behavior and how I portrayed myself to others. I always made sure I was kind and tolerant towards everyone. Yet, people still found faults in me. My freshman year – also my first year in Memphis – a girl in my World Geography Honors class tried picking a fight with me because she thought I was fake [read: I was too nice]. My senior year, one of my own friends openly told me I was too harsh and too arrogant [read: I had no filter].
I guess I could never seem to find the right balance.
Impavid: [meaning] fearless.
Spencer Johnson, author of Who Moved My Cheese? asks a hypothetical yet driving question, “What would you do if you weren’t afraid?”
When I asked myself this question during groggy morning bus rides to school, ruminating showers, and savored late Friday nights, I came up with no answer.
I know now, I think.
I may have neglected the standard yet necessary “introductory” post to this blog.
I’ve been spending the past couple of months waking up in the middle of night from two variations of nightmares: My aggressive, domineering ex-boyfriend and the distressing, blunt College Rejection Letter. My senior year has been a time where I have been preparing myself to accept the different kinds of heartbreak.
Considering this is a very pivotal time in my life, I decided to start a blog on a more personal level; something that will document my progress from this very long, anxious moment of waiting onwards. This blog is something that should be a part of my journey.
As life-impacting decisions come towards me, I will have to make some life-changing ones to push back. The purpose of this blog is to help me push back and help me push forward.
Photograph by Kelli Nicole Nichols of Upasna Barath
Bear with me.
I could have never imagined that the first post on this blog would be encapsulating the same person I resented my sophomore year because of one, miscommunicated incident. I spent the first three years of high school constantly wondering if people were making fun of me, talking about me behind my back, pretending to like me. In reference to the first, most occurred worry, I thought Abas and another boy in my sophomore English class were making fun of me. Setting aside the details, yes, I may have been a little too sensitive, and I let myself carry an unnecessary grudge.