Christine, I had a similar experience at one of my high-school reunions, only in reverse. I was chatting with a girl who seemed to Have It All in my class: valedictorian, super-driven, (and of course pretty). I always felt like such a goofy, disorganized, awkward child next to her in high school. Anyway at one point during the evening, she turned to me and told me that she'd always been envious of me. Me?! Yes, "because you knew how to have fun," she told me. Well, it's true that I DID know how to have fun (so much fun I'm surprised I graduated at all), but it never occurred to me at all that she was NOT also having fun, or that she would look back all those years later and envy me. I hope our conversation was able to bring her some healing; I know it did for me, as I've always had a complex about the impression I made during that time of life.
Thanks so much for sharing that, Meagan, and YES, I think the reality is that we are all so (understandably) mired in our own stuff that it makes sense that we would make some basic assumptions about other people’s experiences based on our quick touchpoints and then those ideas just stick. It has been really eye opening to have conversations around this topic as an adult. Though when it comes to high school, I remain repeatedly shocked when people are like, “Oh, I thought you were so cool!” and I am like “LOLOLOL”
A truly wonderful story, and relevant to today’s college graduates and young adults making their way through the pandemic, political toxicity, and economic precarity. The choice to shift the narrative may require time, but it’s always available.
This is another beautifully resonant essay, Christine, and I so appreciate your vulnerability and introspection. I'm adding your 6 take-aways to my phone "notes". As an introvert who strongly values (and seeks) connection they feel like such good guideposts to ponder and follow.
Christine, I had a similar experience at one of my high-school reunions, only in reverse. I was chatting with a girl who seemed to Have It All in my class: valedictorian, super-driven, (and of course pretty). I always felt like such a goofy, disorganized, awkward child next to her in high school. Anyway at one point during the evening, she turned to me and told me that she'd always been envious of me. Me?! Yes, "because you knew how to have fun," she told me. Well, it's true that I DID know how to have fun (so much fun I'm surprised I graduated at all), but it never occurred to me at all that she was NOT also having fun, or that she would look back all those years later and envy me. I hope our conversation was able to bring her some healing; I know it did for me, as I've always had a complex about the impression I made during that time of life.
Thanks so much for sharing that, Meagan, and YES, I think the reality is that we are all so (understandably) mired in our own stuff that it makes sense that we would make some basic assumptions about other people’s experiences based on our quick touchpoints and then those ideas just stick. It has been really eye opening to have conversations around this topic as an adult. Though when it comes to high school, I remain repeatedly shocked when people are like, “Oh, I thought you were so cool!” and I am like “LOLOLOL”
A truly wonderful story, and relevant to today’s college graduates and young adults making their way through the pandemic, political toxicity, and economic precarity. The choice to shift the narrative may require time, but it’s always available.
Yes indeed. And there is literally no prescriptive timeline to any of this.
Also, feeling all of the love for M right now! Congratulations to your awesome kid!
This is another beautifully resonant essay, Christine, and I so appreciate your vulnerability and introspection. I'm adding your 6 take-aways to my phone "notes". As an introvert who strongly values (and seeks) connection they feel like such good guideposts to ponder and follow.
Rosanne, I’m so glad this resonated, and I’m quite honored for the ideas to travel along with you. :-) Thanks for sharing that with me.