Tuesday, June 16, 2015

One Commit Behind

Being at home is weird.

I moved out of my dorm last Thursday, and have been at home ever since. Getting ready for Indonesia. Rereading books. Writing (less than one would think) in Ubermadchen. Trying to overcome my natural activation energy and getting more familiar with the technical aspects of networks and servers and a whole host (ha) of topics that are new to me.

Wondering if people see me when they look at me.


Car Radio - twenty one pilots

Thank you to LS for being my source of good music, as usual. This song would be better suited to a post where I took a good hard look at who I am and the good/bad/ugly, but I'm including it with this more self-indulgent post because I've been listening to it on repeat for most of today.


I've made a big deal out of how much I've changed since coming to college, and I'm always surprised when I come back to people who have, themselves, changed, and we treat one another as if no time has passed. I'm a different person, I feel that, but it sounds silly in my head when I'm with family, friends, who only knew me when.

Much of our identity is tied to our environment. But I'd like to hold on to the changes that I've made. When I am with people who think of me as a dependent, as someone incapable of executing the most basic household duties, as a kid, can I still be the independent and competent adult that I am trying to become?

Partially because we moved right after I left for college, I feel disconnected from the me that graduated high school. The house and room that I made my own, the familiar neighborhood, the daily routines, all disappeared at once. The person went away more slowly but there's little enough that is left, physically, as a reminder.

In the last few weeks of school one of my friends remarked that the most difficult act is to stay silent. I disagreed immediately. Silence is easy. It is easy to hold your cards close to your chest, to let on nothing about your thoughts and opinions. Harder is to speak up for yourself and present who you are, especially to people for whom that may be surprising. Harder yet is to speak up in a way that isn't petulant, that isn't defensive. In a way that will get respect.

That's the biggest thing, I think: how can I earn my parents' respect? My grades are fine but this is gold-sticker stuff that I've been doing for years. I'm trying hard to do this planning for Indonesia correctly because I really want it to go well. I really want to prove that I can work in a professional environment and execute a project.

Since coming home I've felt less able to experience the delight that I often felt at school over delightful experiences such as contra dances or performances. In part this is because there are fewer such events; in part this is because I can't trust that child-like will not get conflated with childish, and I can't seem like a child.

The feeling of needing to prove yourself is pretty common for people my age, I'd guess. The frustrating part is that I've changed, for the better I think, and am trying to push those changes out to the world. But I am not apparently doing a good enough job of it, because people at home still seem one commit behind the master branch of me.


No apologies for the Github analogy. Minor apologies for the self-indulgence and whininess of this post.

No comments:

Post a Comment