I am not a baddass. I own no leather jacket. I have a total of zero tattoos (though I have been dying for this to change). I can't drive a motorbike. More often than not last year, I described myself as "an 80 year old living in an 18 year old's body." Even as a "rebellious teenager," the most dangerous I got was going a little crazy with the caffeine and cutting my skirt's hemline un peu court. I've actually apologized for not being troublesome enough.
When you tell your kid, as punishment, to "get out of your room!", you know there's a bit of a situation.
As I've gotten older, I've learned that wanting to curl up with a book/movie/epically large mug of hot chocolate isn't something to be guilty about. It's the introvert's party. For the most part, I'm happy to be excited by the subdued life. But I've also noticed that some who are most at peace, more self-realized, and most ready to accept what is were major baddasses at some point in their lives. I mean, it got the point at Shoshoni, where it was almost part of the schedule to, at dinner, talk about one's former pot smoking, beer chugging self. Me? I felt like sitting at the "kid's table" and coloring with some crayons. Could I only be spiritual if I had "seen the pretty colors" and blacked out, completely shitfaced? Did I need bad life experiences to truly revel in the good ones?
The "I must compare myself to everyone and everything" side of myself thought so. In fact, her inner dialogue went something like this:
compare-girl: That guy used to think everything was made of clay! Have you ever mistaken anything for clay?
Kira: Ummm...I thought a soup spoon was an ice cream scooper once.
Compare-girl: You're an idiot for never having been an idiot! Completely worthless! How dare you refuse to make decisions that make you horribly uncomfortable?
Kira: Can I go read some Jodi Picoult now?
Compare-Girl: Everyone's gonna know how immature you are. Those "wise beyond your years" compliments? They're just masking the fact that you're a silly little punk.
Kira: I'll dye my hair pink tomorrow. There. Is that reckless enough for you?
Compare-Girl: We're getting there.
People sometimes look at these reckless life choices with regret. They preface these stories with "I was so stupid..." but it's a bonding moment for so many. Because they were foolish once, that gives a concrete reason to not be foolish ever again. Is it naive to think you can skip the rebel stage and try to dive straight into finding the self?
I mean, not that all moments in my life have been the proudest. But I gather that calling your mom names and throwing strawberries at walls isn't gonna cut it for those bonding moments. It's as though never having smoked a joint will make me less valuable for creating good in the world.
It sounds completely ridiculous. I know it does. But has anyone felt this way? That badassery is the first step to self-realization?
I mean, not getting arrested is cool and all, but then again, who wants to be the "naive one" at age 30?
Not I, said the weird blond.
Namaste.
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