I remember sitting in Dr. Matson's class the spring semester of freshman year, frantically scribbling notes in my textbook with every word of wisdom that traveled from his mouth to my ears. I remember many things from that class and that man, but in this moment I remember a specific sentence he uttered, which I suspect will only grow in value to me as time goes on. He was talking about happiness in our careers, and he said, "Happiness leads to success, not the other way around. A lot of people think it is success that leads to happiness, but it's not. And if you want any shot at real happiness in your life, you'll realize that pretty fast." The part I remember so clearly is what came next. "Your own personal happiness will become so important to you, that you will do whatever is necessary to attain it." He said we would cut ties with people, quit bad jobs, and even move elsewhere eventually, if our happiness dictated it was necessary.
At the time, I was newly nineteen years old and it is honestly amazing to me how little I had experienced in my life up to that point. That was only three years ago, but my god, it feels like so much of my own naiveté has worn off since that time. Now, a few months away from graduation and having to enter the Big Girl Job Market with nothing more than hard work and good luck between now and then, I understand what he was talking about. Freshman year, I felt no pressure whatsoever to pick a career which would be personally fulfilling, financially secure, and also provide a good deal of upward mobility, all at once. Those thoughts weren't even blips on my radar. My, how life changes... and fast.
I think about the wonderfully wise words of Dr. Matson quite often, especially during any rough patch I have gone through during my college experience. And as many college students could attest to, sometimes rough patches seem to happen a little more frequently than not. My close friends like to tease me when I quote Dr. Matson, and they say I have a crush on him. But I really just can't help but internalize messages like these. He has really played an important role in my education - both academically and otherwise.
While on the subject of happiness in career, the conversation veered off a bit into the territory of personal happiness, and especially in interpersonal relationships. (This was a sociology class, after all.) What I appreciate most about this quote of his, is that like most of his advice, it applies not only to career, but to the rest of life as well.
Recently (within the last week), I have noticed myself feeling so aware of other people. At first, I thought to myself, "huh, that's weird," and went on about my life. But the more I noticed it, the more uncomfortable it made me. I have never been one to care much about the opinions of others before. What changed? Now, this didn't settle well with me. So naturally, I had to dig a little deeper within myself to investigate.
What do I mean, I cared more about what others thought? What I mean is, over the course of the last few years, I think I have unwittingly become hypersensitive to how others perceive me. Perhaps it has been a combination of so-called friends telling me I am "too much" for them (yes, seriously) and also learning so much about the roles which are socially acceptable for women to play in society. (Being a Gender Studies student means it's only a matter of time before you start to analyze everything you do and what your motivation is for doing it.) I dunno. Some combination of these events led to my sudden hyper-conscientiousness about all my words and actions.
It really culminated this week, when I realized I was acting differently around a new dynamic of friends in a social setting I'd never been in before - and one I'll never be in again. I didn't realize how aware I was of how I was acting until after it was over, when I was alone in my own quiet time at the end of the day, and I felt that familiar proverbial exhale as I was finally able to fully embrace my solitude.
I was sitting on my bed by myself tonight, literally laughing out loud at the comedy documentary I was watching on Netflix. I laughed as a totally involuntary bodily reaction to the hilarious media I had just absorbed. I realized a few seconds too late, that I had laughed quite loudly, and that it was past quiet hours in the dorms. "Oops," I thought. But then, something weird happened. Immediately after I caught myself acting in a way which was bound to get me in trouble, I also thought, "Wait a minute, that was kind of incredible. I was just being myself and laughing and not thinking about it at all." But this beautiful thought had only been floating above my head for a few moments before it was replaced by another: "That's kind of sad, that I just realized that. Why don't I just naturally act this way without thinking all the time?" And so on and so forth. Then I had a cup of tea and slowed my brain down long enough to form my bumbling thoughts into words on this screen.
If you were to ask many people who know me, they would probably tell you that I am very much myself most of the time and that I oftentimes lack a filter. This would lead you to believe that I have no problems whatsoever with being unapologetically myself, and that I do so quite freely. But you would be wrong.
I'm not sure that it was a single moment in time when my brain decided, "Okay, we're going to suddenly care much more about everything we do now," rather than a gradual escalation of social cues on which I learned to pick up. In fact, I think most of it started when I began to examine so many social interactions under the microscope of feminism. I used to just act in the way which was most natural and comfortable to me, and screw you if you didn't like it. Granted, I ran into my own fair share of confrontation that way as well, but I didn't really care. That was the whole point. And I'll tell you what, I was pretty happy in those days. Like, really "I know what I want to do with my life" happy.
Then I began thinking about how I was acting, rather than just simply acting. That was the problem. I started putting thought behind the things I was doing, calculating. "Okay, if this is how I am expected to act, then I will actually act in the total opposite way. I will defy the expectations placed on me by society, and I will create social change all while being a rebel. I'll win!" became a common thought process in my head. But goodness, if that isn't exhausting. It downright rips the fun out of life, because instead of living, you're thinking.
Earlier this week was the moment when I realized this sort of pattern occurring and I kind of just decided enough was enough. I was thinking about so many things before I did them. It was not natural to me, and it just didn't feel right. If I can't just be myself and act however I feel is best, then I'm spending time with the wrong people. I think the goal is to be able to have that moment - that proverbial exhale - in the presence of others. That moment I had where I let it all out in my quiet alone time - that is the exact kind of myself I would like to be, without thinking before acting. And screw you if you don't like it.
So I'm not really sure when it was exactly that I started caring so much about what others think of me. I don't remember the moment in time when I started thinking before acting. But starting right now, I'm taking it all back. I no longer have the energy to be anything but myself. If being myself means I adhere perfectly to the expectations placed on me, then so be it. That's all right. If it so happens that being myself means I break every single one of the rules that were intended for me, then so be that, too. I don't care. I figure I'll lose the wrong friends and make the right ones this way. People will either love me for it, or not. Either way, I know it'll all work itself out in the end, after the dust of all this growth and self-exploration has settled.
Because my own personal happiness has finally become so important to me that I will do whatever is necessary to attain it.
