(Written in 2003.)
My memories of life from age 12 to age 16 are pretty much a blur. I guess I spent the years daydreaming, reliving the golden happy moments of my early childhood, wishing to be 5 years old again, or 10. I fantasized about the future, too, constructing elaborate soap-opera-like scenes in my mind. Anything but to live in the present day. Which at that time in my life was such dull, frustrating sameness year after year.
During these crucial, formative years, most kids have new friends, new teachers, new classmates, and different extra-curricular activities every year. They learn how to adapt, to conduct themselves in all sorts of social situations. They grow and change. I didn’t have that. I was home schooled from the end of 6th grade through senior year.
There are major drawbacks to home schooling. There’s no growth, it’s a stagnant environment. Year after year, the same teachers (your parents), same classmates (your siblings), same classroom (your living room). All concepts are taught from one viewpoint (your parents’). Making friends with kids who go to “real” school is hard, they can’t see you as being just like them, you’re always a freak, an outsider.
And it leaves a kid rather unprepared for going off to college. Sure, you’ve got a 4.0 GPA, high scores on the SATs, you took all the required “college prep courses”. But you haven’t the slightest idea how to be a normal young adult hanging out with friends.
Arriving at college in a big city 2000 miles from home, I was, at 17, inwardly still the same person I was at 11. Trying to appear “grown up and sophisticated”, I probably looked more like a 25 yr. old hooker. Ignorant of current trends, I wore everything my mother ever forbid me to — leather miniskirts and 4″ heels, a long black fur coat and low cut blouses. A 17 yr. old girl dressed like Joan Collins in Dynasty, trying to act like Brenda and Kelly from Beverly Hills 90210. I’d known that once I got away from my mother, I could be the sort of popular, free, friendly person I’d always envied. But I was a loner, a freak. I didn’t have a clue how to treat those around me, how to attract and interact with guys. I was too hesitant and awkward to say “Hi!” to the people I thought could be interesting to befriend. So, I lived mostly in daydreams still.
Eventually, I gave up trying to be somebody I wasn’t. I embraced the persona of a “quiet, mysterious, oddly dressed dreamer-artist girl” and found other odd people who didn’t mind me hanging around them. I never made any close friends in those years but I learned gradually how to act like an adult human.
I am still figuring out how to be “social”, learning the art of conversation, and how to make and keep friends. I will always be a freak. Part of this is due to my upbringing, part my basic nature. I’ll be responsible and mature at times, but always more of a child at heart. Ferragamo shoes and a Hello Kitty handbag. Adding a few comments to a discussion of modern political issues with friends over coffee, then going home and playing with Star Wars toys while I lie about on the floor.
I will never have the memories of being a cheerleader or going to prom, of flirting with boys while giggling with girlfriends in the cafeteria. I watch high school movies such as Breakfast Club or American Pie like an alien fascinated by earthling culture. I’m wanting to not let any more years slip by in a blur. I hope this journal will help me to hold on to the good times of my late 20s and early 30s. It’s a time of growth and change and possibly the prime of my life. I want to drink in every day, try not to let petty concerns take over my thoughts, and create a life worth writing a memoir of when I am old and wise.
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