Justified Worth

Do you remember the night we met? The night this all started? The night when we ventured out on our first date? That night we established a bond, a bond of trust. I ventured against the bile and pinch to extend an invitation--that you, maybe out of curiosity, maybe out of skepticism, and maybe out of friendship and support, chose to accept. Since, you've entered my home, my family, my most intimate memories…well, that might be a bit of a stretch, but it sounds good….

Are you ready? Here's the thing: you know the anxiety, the lack of self-esteem, the doubt, the fear, the worry….those monsters that creep in when you and I and this thing we have fall too far away from one another…they're back. But, I know exactly why.  Ironically, they are back both because of and despite the reasons I have for staying away so long…I miss you, and this, I do, but December is still a couple of months away, and until then….I'm committed elsewhere.

Grad school has afforded me more already than it ever will monetarily. The most empowering was writing the most honest and raw application essay, the most revealing and candid essay I have written to date….the most liberating was being accepted into grad school even after those entrusted to make such a decision read that essay and chose to extend welcome into their program. It's one thing to be accepted, but it is quite another to be accepted complete with, and despite one's,  greatest shortcomings. I bore my soul in that essay and confessed my greatest sins (and I can assure you that this isn't hyperbole) and yet, they accepted me. No GRE or SAT could or would do that….

I was as awkward a child as one can be. Eyes too big, ears too big, nose too big, mouth too big….pants too short, hairy legs, strange ideas, mouth too big to keep those ideas inside…Ironically, the ideas that make us strange as children often make us leaders as adults….still, acceptance didn't come naturally for me. I learned, mimicked, observed for years, in order to become accepted—to become fitting. The sad part of it all is that, for me, I had to look the part long before I felt comfortable enough to live it…to honestly, completely, emphatically just BE myself. I see it in my children now—those idiosyncrasies—those quips that aren't theirs, borrowed from a friend—stolen from a TV show—attitudes tried on in the journey toward finding comfort in one's own self. These things, so mortifying in hindsight—the word "dudette"—are so right, or seemingly so, in the moment….why?

In my naïve adventures through life, I've assumed, erroneously, that everyone comes to some point in which they accept, love, and become themselves….I have. I am exactly who I am. I think it must have been only about three weeks ago that I realized that this isn't so for some people—a lot of people. I don't like the expression "a lot" because it is vague, so I only try to use it when I really have to…in this case, a lot of people, apparently, never really do become their true selves. That's sad. I don't know why that is. It would be easy to conclude that they just aren't happy with their true selves, so being someone else is easier, but that's not true. Acting is hard work…accepting that I'm not perfect, that two of my teeth stick out farther than the rest and little kids are bound to point this out for the rest of my life, that I suck at math and always will and that's just okay, and that some nights sleep can't happen until my thoughts are typed onto this screen…well, all of that isn't necessarily ideal, but it just is….

Grad school has afforded me more than I can ever express, and I realize each day just how much I've learned. Anyone who claims that getting a degree is jumping through hoops clearly hasn't attempted the work. It ain't easy, and that's a good thing. There are few things that establish self worth more than honest hard work. But the work and effort and all of that aside, the acceptance bestowed upon me has been the greatest gift. Sure, skeptics, you could argue that they accept everyone, that my essay had nothing to do with it, that I was in with or without it, that educational institutions are more concerned with money than people, but you, my dears, have no idea what I wrote in that essay…few people do….

And grad school is what's kept us apart, that's true, and yet, it is also the very thing which gave me the nerve to ask you out in the first place….(if you're confused, you probably need to go back and read the very first entry in this blog….regarding our first date).

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