when the inner child grows up

I have crises of confidence sometimes. I wonder if people look at me and underestimate me because I'm small and short. I wonder if people see me act cute and silly (and hear me whine) and think less of me. I wonder if they find out about my passion for cheesy Asian pop music and dismiss me as flighty, frivolous, young.

I think that's part of why I work so hard sometimes, to prove them wrong. (Another large part is for my parents, naturally, but you've heard that one before.) Of course, this could be my paranoia speaking; there could be no "them" to look down on me--and even if there were, they shouldn't matter. I shouldn't worry so much about the opinions of people who don't know me, since "those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind", after all.

Still, a part of me takes pride in being able to tell people that I'm a double major with a minor, that I'm graduating a year early, that I'm going to law school. Somehow, it makes me feel like I'm proving their assumptions wrong, that despite what they think, I have accomplishments I can take pride in. It should be the case anyway, I know. I can be proud of myself without having to prove myself to anyone. But this is how I am: I validate myself according to others. (I really shouldn't.)

I'm a paradox. I want to be both cute and endearing as well as respected and admired. I want to be doted on while at the same time being treated as an independent, capable, accomplished adult. I like to be hugged and cooed over, to be teased affectionately, but I want to wow people at the same time. I look with envy at the girls who walk around in their peacoats and matching outfits (scarves, gloves, hats), and their clicking heels (boots or otherwise). I want to be able to be perfectly put-together like that, all the time--to look professional and feminine and like I can handle anything that comes at me. Part of me wonders if they sacrifice comfort for fashion, but another part of me thinks it might be worth it. Then another part of me thinks that I only think that way because I'm insecure about myself--body, height, personality, accomplishments--and I feel like the only way to assert myself as a female adult is to dress like one. Honestly, if I had confidence, I wouldn't worry so much about appearances because I would trust the world to be able to tell exactly how much I was capable of.

But I don't know how much I'm capable of. I wonder if it (everything) is enough. I wonder if I will be treated like a child for the rest of my life. I can't help feeling that way when I'm reaffirmed in my fears every time I go home--outside of my parents, who are excused for treating me like a child (in some ways), every adult I've known since I was in eighth grade will forever treat me as if I'm still in middle school or (possibly) high school. I will forever be young, naive, inexperienced--and perhaps in comparison to them I am but it's an oppressive feeling to be treated as if you are eternally in eighth grade.

I'm not sure how to resolve this contradiction in my needs, but at least I can tell you that no matter my childishness (it's interesting how that word has negative connotations whereas "childlike" conveys something much more positive), I am not a child. I may still be growing up, but I am also grown up.

reflecting yourself in the world around you

It's true that you choose your friends and that they reflect the kind of person you are. Many of my friends are Asian and many of those who aren't are at least interested in Asian culture--I never realized how true this was, how much I took it for granted, until I came into work last night with some bubble tea and was asked by at least three different people (co-worker, customer, and manager) what it was.

Not only had they never had it, they'd never even heard of it.

With globalization so prevalent in the U.S. (the "melting pot" of cultures) and especially while attending such a liberal, diverse university, I'd made the mistake of thinking that everyone had equal exposure to cultures that I had. It's not true. They don't know all that I know, that I take for granted--and the same is true in reverse. What do I really know about French or Norwegian culture, for example? I have no French or Norwegian friends. I have no friends who are so immersed in those cultures that they would teach me by virtue of acquaintance.

Sometimes it's startling to realize how different my frame of reference regarding the world is compared to other people's. It's difficult to take a step outside of the box and trying to see yourself from the outside looking in, rather than from the inside looking out. The viewpoints are startlingly different. (It's like finding out you're in a clique. What, really? When did this happen?)

This was a reminder to me to pay attention to the world outside of my ostensibly open-minded and broad perspective of Western vs. non-Western cultures. There is more to the West than just U.S., and there is more to non-Western culture than just Asia. While I may have an advantage over others in my knowledge and familiarity with aspects of Asian culture, there is still a whole wide world out there of knowledge I don't have, and could learn.

Reach out. Teach what you know and be receptive to everything you don't.

looking back and looking forward

So it's 2008 now.

This is the year I graduate and, hopefully, attend law school. It's strange to reflect on the past year; as I was doing so, I realized that I have a tendency to separate my years by the academic calendar, rather than the solar calendar. When I said a month ago, for example, that I hadn't seen M since last year, I meant that I hadn't seen her since my sophomore year: May 2007. It hadn't been an actual calendar year, of course.

When I include my spring semester of my sophomore year, and the summer, 2007 seems much longer than it does otherwise. I've grown a lot this year because I think it's one of the things you can't help; you end up a little wiser every year, if only because life happens to you. Life happens and you learn.

Though not perfect by any means, I really think the previous semester has been one of my best. Not academically (there were still two Bs more than I would have liked) or even socially (there could have been a lot less drama in a lot of areas), but overall, it was a good semester. I remember most of it fondly: work was fantastic, because I had fun and grew closer to people and got a raise; I met new friends that I grew immeasurably close to; I had fun with my non-academic time; and I learned how to study. That's probably the most key experience of my semester--learning how to manage my time, how to step out of my comfort zone and talk to professors, how to be more effective when I took notes, how to find a place that maximized my studying capacity...

I pulled a few all-nighters, yes. I stressed out, yes. But I really think I learned how to manage my time well this past semester and that made me happy. Certain sacrifices were required, whether in sleep or in free time or in getting to read books for fun, but I think they were worth it.

There are still a lot of areas in my life and in myself that I would like to improve, but 2007 was good to me. I started off the year in a state of panic, in dismay, but I grew over the summer and throughout the fall semester. I had a wonderful December. I ended the year happy with my growth as a person, which is something that did not come easily to me before. I still have doubts and anxieties and clawing, consuming fear of inadequacy sometimes, but I am much happier with who I am now than I was a year ago.

What else could I ask for? I hope 2008 will bring more of the same.

For all my joking protests, I don't really mind growing up, even if it takes some effort.