Held like water in your shaking hands (fadeintofocus) wrote,
Held like water in your shaking hands
fadeintofocus

  • Location:
  • Mood:
  • Music:

Late Bloomin' Onion

Stuck in a culture that celebrates precociousness with creepy ferocity, I think I am a late bloomer. Regardless of talent or entertainment value, youth is prized as a virtue, rather than an accident of time. Honey Boo Boo is a phenomenon with which far too many people are familiar, but instead of being overweight and overbearing and more or less ignored/disregarded, the culture exploits her youthful naivety, and the dumb fuckery of her guardians, for a cheap laugh.

My youth is slipping away, and I'm beginning to feel it in the way I'm treated by others. On one hand, I'm granted authority and gravity by others which immediately lends weight to whatever I opine. On the other hand, relinquishing my youthful sexual indiscretions to the past seems to have robbed me of the energy and magnetism of the same. Long story short, I don't feel pretty any more.

Time has moved on. I have gotten married, lost my father, adopted a puppy, moved more times than I care to recall, started travelling around the world more frequently, and have stopped wearing Chuck Taylors everywhere. Adulthood is exhausting. I work too much, and despise the sameness. I'm upending my life for a new opportunity, and I dread the change. I have spent so much time being unsure of myself and self-deprecating, I now struggle with enormous overconfidence marked by pocks of devastating doubt. My wife more or less dresses me. It's too much trouble to fight about it, most of the time. I don't even have a decent hoodie at this point.

Not that this is a passionate argument for couture or anything, but I feel that without my power items, I'm less comfortable, less confident, and less... myself than I would be otherwise. I've always been subject to and the source of many contradictions, and now that I'm starting to pursue an advanced degree in a very image- and status-conscious field, I realize that which would make me feel powerful is contraindicated by the prejudices of others in that field. At the same time, fuck a big bag of them.

Being this age, and feeling more constrained by circumstances than I did 5 years ago is fucking absurd. Feeling this isolated is also unnatural; between a workplace almost entirely filled with people in whom I am uninterested, and no time/opportunity to hang out with the exceptions, I'm drowning in guilt and responsibility. This s exactly the life I was running away from when I moved to Allston goddamned 15 years ago.

Back to school this autumn, I will take this as an opportunity to adjust the compass, re-set my path, and reacquaint myself with myself, and if someone doesn't think that I can be effective in a black zip-up and a shitty attitude, I'd like to be able to throw my GPA in their face. Won't be easy, but not much that's worth doing is. Being yourself while succeeding in a challenging profession-- now that is pretty fucking punk.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments