Imitation

I’m sure that most of us have heard that “imitation is the highest form of flattery.” I know that when I was a kid, my parents would often say that to my older sister to explain why I was copying her with everything. And they were right, the fact that I was imitating her was something she could take as a compliment, because, obviously, I wanted to be more like her. But the truth of the matter is that my reasoning for wanting to be more like her was that I was not happy with myself. When she wanted to be Cinderella for Halloween, I wanted to be Cinderella for Halloween, because, well, I thought Sarah was far cooler than me, so I would never be able to come up with an equally cool costume idea. My mother, ever supportive, would let us both have the same costume.

Having grown up a great deal in the last 15 years, I no longer feel the need to copy my older sister. She’s still cool (of course), but I’ve got my own style, my own opinion, and my own ideas that I don’t feel the need to compare to hers. I’m confident enough in myself as an individual now that I don’t have to imitate Sarah.

Sadly, this confidence isn’t true of all people, even those that are adults. Children can be expected to imitate, because they’re still working on discovering themselves. And, admittedly, I will probably always be discovering new things about myself, but I no longer need to imitate in order to do that.

I know a girl at school who is obsessively imitative. Because I am confident in myself and she is not in herself, she thinks that being like me will make her confident. She has listed off to me the things in my life that she is jealous of, including my body, my boyfriend, and my attitude. While I’m flattered plenty by the fact that she thinks everything in my life is so wonderful, I can’t help but feel sad for her that she can’t find the same happiness in her own life. My body isn’t perfect, my boyfriend isn’t perfect, and my attitude isn’t perfect, but I’m happy with all of the above, and I have accepted that I will never reach perfection. Being aware of the imperfections in my life has helped me to deal with them accordingly and maintain a confidence in myself. This girl, however, is plenty aware of her imperfections, but unable to accept them and deal with them. She wants perfection for herself, therefore she will never be happy with herself.

There is nothing wrong with admiring another person. I, for example, admire my parents and my siblings for all that they have achieved in their lives and the happiness that they have found. But I am not jealous of my older brother for the success he has had, I do not look at my father as perfect, I do not believe that I need to be like my little sister in order to be happy. I admire them, yes, but I do not imitate them because then I would be trying to be someone else. I wish that everyone could be happy with just themselves, that they could be confident in even their imperfections, to the point that others can be admired but not imitated. Being yourself means finding yourself, accepting your imperfections, and loving yourself as an individual in spite of them.

Travel

One of the reasons people are afraid to be single is that they are scared of being alone. For those of you who have feelings like this, know that being alone doesn’t have to be scary, in fact, I love being alone. The reason I bring this up is because of something that I discovered on StumbleUpon recently. I found it on Today’s website, and it is an article called “Going Solo” by Serene Lim. It discusses the joys of travelling alone.

For some people, travelling alone is as odd of a concept as going to the movie theater alone, but I admire those who have the independence to do either by themselves. In terms of travelling alone, Lim gives advice for those planning to travel by themselves, especially for how to prepare yourself beforehand. One of the best things you can do, according to Lim, is become “comfortable by yourself for an extended period” and practicing by “starting light conversations with strangers.” While I have no problem making friends with strangers, I’m a well-travelled social butterfly. For people without such travelling experience or who are introverted, Lim’s article walks step-by-step through the benefits of travelling alone and how to get over a fear of it.

The reason this interests me so much is that I plan to travel by myself for a year (and no, this was not inspired by the book “Eat Pray Love”, although I enjoyed it immensely). I have it on my bucket list – yes, I have one – to go abroad for at least a year. As I’m still in college, I may do a portion of that year as Study Abroad, or I will wait until I’ve graduated. The plan, which I have already begun to work on, is to start in Paris (which I have already been privileged enough to visit twice), work my way north to Normandy, then west to Brittany – where I’ll take some time to cross the English Channel and visit Great Britain – then south along the western coast of France, on to Spain and Portugal, then along the southern coast of France, into Italy, then through the Alps and to Switzerland, Germany, Belgium, and back to the north of France in Lille. One year, one girl, and 8 countries, and yes, I plan to do it alone.

While the idea is somewhat intimidating, I’ve had some practice with uncomfortable situations just by coming to Pennsylvania. I had no friends at my school before coming here, and I had to adjust to a different climate, slang, history and culture. Honestly, it’s like a different country here, and given the 2,000 miles separating my home and my school, that really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me. I’m finishing my second year here, and I’ve survived easily. I made friends when I felt like it, spent time by myself when I wanted to, got involved to stave off homesickness, and kept in contact with my family and friends from home. I’ve had practice enough, I believe, to be able to travel by myself.

The reason the trip is centered around France is thanks to my dad. When I was in middle school, he and I spent 2 weeks in Italy and Paris. My minimal taste of France wasn’t enough, so he told me that if I learned French in high school – enough to successfully guide us around the country – he would take me back after my graduation. I kept up my end of the deal, and so did he. My second time in France I fell even further in love with it, but having only the time to explore Paris and Normandy, I felt the need to go for at least a year so as to explore and better understand the entire country.

I don’t want to sound overly-confident in my travelling and adjusting abilities, because yes, I will be terrified at times, I will get lost, and I will get homesick. But that’s all part of the adventure of being by yourself, and it’s all a part of what makes travelling alone such a life changing experience.

Being single

On the note of breakups and the joys of being single, I feel the need to address connotations of being older and single. The cultural connotation, especially for older single women, is that they should be pitied. I personally respect older women who are single for breaking the norm. There is absolutely no reason women should be ashamed of being single, and no reason they should be judged for it.

As I stated in my previous post, my mother is recently divorced, and she is 51. While she is proud and happy to be single, she has always been an independent type, and, just as she advised me to after my breakup, she has always maintained a positive attitude about her situation despite the fact that she never wanted to get a divorce. Not all women have this same attitude, however, and I wish they could.

One of the biggest problems is the assumption that everybody wants to be in a relationship and/or married. Some people prefer to be single, or are in no rush to be in a serious relationship. I read a number of articles about single older women (given that I’m younger and don’t have the greatest perspective on the matter), and one of my favorites was “Don’t Demonize Singles: there’s a lot of us about” by Joan Smith. She discusses the “pleasures” of living single, including “spending an entire day in bed reading novels and eating chocolate” which are commonly “overlooked”.  Now I’m not every woman, and I’m not exactly an older woman, but that sounds like perfection to me!

I think women are often afraid of being alone because of the stereotype that we are meant to be with a man; we are meant to live at home and wear a red and white checkered apron in our kitchen while cooking for our bread-winning husbands; we’re supposed to drive mini vans to chauffeur our mini half-selves around to soccer practice and dance lessons. While I intend to marry and have children someday, I’m in no hurry to do so, and I have no desire to fit the stereotype of a submissive housewife. I want to be on my own feet, making plenty of money for myself and contributing to the household funds. I love to cook (and, in fact, would love to wear a red and white checkered apron), but I have absolutely no intention of staying home to cook all day while waiting for the man of the house to return home.

More and more women are changing from the traditional role in households, and more power to them! There is nothing shameful about being traditional or radical or anywhere in between, but women shouldn’t feel the need to marry at 26 and have children at 28 if that’s not what they want to do. Be happy with who you are – no matter what age you’re at – before becoming dependent on someone else.

Rediscovering yourself

While I was interested in writing a blog on individuality because of my experience with finding myself, my initial motivation for it was because I had gone through a bad breakup, and I went through a truly life changing time.

The breakup, for me, was unexpected and indescribably upsetting. At the time, it was my Christmas break from college, and my then boyfriend had just spent Christmas and New Years on the other side of the country with my family. Needless to say, I thought things were going well. I was staying at a friend’s house when the actual breakup occurred, which is where I went through all of the obligatory stages. The depression, not eating, the crying, the calling mom and sisters, the anger, the “why did this happen?”, the “why doesn’t he want me?”, the “I deserve better”.

But then the recovery stage began. For the first time in a year and a half, it was just me. I was by myself, and then, slowly, it started to get better. In fact, I remember the turning point. When I returned to my bedroom at school, I grabbed everything that belonged to my ex, and put it in a pile. I didn’t throw it, I didn’t break anything, I didn’t cry, I just made a pile. I left my room then, and returned hours later, and put the pile away. Refolded the clothes, alphabetized the books, and carefully placed the ukulele on my extra bed. When I called my divorced mother that night to tell her what it felt like to return to my room and return to the memories, she knew exactly what I had experienced, and said, understandingly: “Sometimes, you just need to put everything into a big pile.” I knew then that I was going to be okay.

As I made my way through the recovery stage, I became happy with myself again. I told my friends that for the first time in a year and a half, I was by myself and I loved myself. I loved myself! What a feeling. I remembered what it was like to function as an individual, not with my boyfriend as a couple, and it was wonderful. My mother, one of the wisest people I know, told me that “It’s times like these when everyone watches you to see how you react. The best thing you can do is smile so they can see how strong you are.” And I did. Surprisingly, forcing myself to smile helped me become happier. Moping wouldn’t have helped, in fact, it might have pushed friends away. They all admired my strength for having a smile, and respected me for having a positive outlook despite the less than ideal circumstances I was in.

The irony of this whole ordeal was the way my ex reacted to my positivity. I was not bitter towards him at all, because the breakup had helped me to remember what I loved about being by myself. When we began spending time together again, he was completely crestfallen at my smile (thanks mom!). Later, a friend told me that he had said: “I broke up with her, yet she seems to be happier about it.” While I wasn’t bitter or attempting to get revenge in any ways, hearing this made me feel better because it reminded me that I was okay.

Moral of the story, especially for anyone having gone through an bad breakup, is that good things can absolutely come from bad circumstances. And, in the case of relationships, being alone – even if its forced and unwanted – can help you to rediscover yourself.

Personality Disorders

An aspect of individuality that I find interesting is personality, and what causes certain personality traits to develop. And while thinking about personality-related topics that I could potentially blog about, I saw an episode of “Criminal Minds Behavioral Analysis Unit” that inspired me to look into personality disorders.

This particular episode that I saw involved a schizophrenic hotel employee named Adam. He was shy soft spoken, and compliant. His other personality, however, is that of a woman named Amanda. She is the more protective version of Adam, and he created her as a child as a form of protection for himself. While under the personality of Amanda, he dresses as a woman, takes men back to his room, and rapes and murders them. When he returns to his normal self, however, he has no recollection of any of the crimes he had committed. The issue with this, of course, comes in his arrest and trial. Can he truly be considered guilty of committing these crimes when he has no recollection of them and did not have the intention of murdering? This is where the insanity plea comes in, of course, but I found the topic fascinating. Technically, physically, yes, Adam had committed the crimes. But mentally, emotionally, he had not been connected to the murders, as Amanda was merely another personality of his, and he had not intended to kill and did not recollect what he had done.

Everyone has been told “be yourself”, but what about those with personality disorders? How can you be yourself if you don’t know who you really are? And in the case of someone with a split personality disorder, how can he/she know which of the personality types is really his/hers? So in Adam’s case, who is the real Adam? While he would be arrested and tried under his given name, should “Amanda” be considered a part of him, or a separate person?

The best article I found that walked me through this issue was from the Journal of Law, Medicine & Ethics and called “Proposition: A Personality Disorder May Nullify Responsibility for a Criminal Act” by Robert Kinscherff. The article states that “A criminal offense requires… proof of misconduct that is specifically prohibited by law (actus reus)” and “proof of sufficient intention or recklessness (mens rea).” Hypothetically taking Adam’s case to court, he is definitely guilty of prohibited misconduct, but not necessarily of intention. Recklessness, possibly. So where can the line be drawn? Further into the article, Kinscherff discusses how to develop an insanity plea, which is an unfortunately long process. While the defendant may already have been found legally insane, he or she also has to be evaluated to determine whether or not his or her potentially criminal act was committed while “functionally impaired in a legally relevant way at the time of the offense.” So, again taking Adam’s case as a hypothetical example, it would have to be proven that he was acting as Amanda while committing the crimes, meaning that his schizophrenia was the reason for his actions.

Personally and realistically, the logistics of an insanity plea seem, well, insane. While schizophrenia is hard enough to understand, the trial process for a criminal schizophrenic it is even more confusing. I believe the situation was handled best in the case on “Criminal Minds”, as Adam was placed in monitored care in mental rehabilitation facility, where he could deal with his schizophrenia and be supervised.

My Story

I have had my own experience with discovering myself, which, in fact, was a big part of my inspiration for writing this blog. I am the third of four kids, and was always the trouble maker in my family. The oldest child, Dan, is the only boy in the family. He excelled in school and sports, and is now a fighter pilot and officer in the Navy. Sarah, the oldest sister, is the overachiever and the closest to perfection. With flawless grades and an intelligent kind of humor, she’s now graduating from a private university in San Diego with plans to become a physical therapist. I am the tragically doomed artistic child (there has to be one, right?); I am the orchestra nerd, the antisocial reading and writing obsessed odd ball. Don’t get me wrong, the family loves me and always will no matter how quirky I am, but I was always the different one, which, perhaps, has played a part in my fascination with individuality. The youngest, Hannah, is the silly, bossy one with an attitude she’s proud of. She just (literally, this past weekend) made the decision to attend a school in Boston next year, where she will be playing soccer and likely maintaining her high GPA (congrats sis!).

That all has to be understood in order to explain why I am where I am. My family lived in Seattle for the first 7 years of my life, and then moved to the suburbs just north of the city. Now, however, I’m in a rural area of Pennsylvania, away from everyone and everything I knew and loved. Even given the weird-kid syndrome, I still love my family and my home, so no, they aren’t the reason I left. I didn’t want to run away from them or start again, necessarily, but rather wanted to try my own thing and be on my own.

I’m a campus tour guide at my university, and a facilitator for our freshman orientation program. Everyone I meet: friends, students, prospective students, parents, teachers, staff, all ask me the same thing – to the point that I’ve debated getting it tattooed on my forehead so I no longer have to answer: “Why the heck would you come here from Seattle?” I know, Seattle is beautiful. And I know, this area of Pennsylvania has a constant, inevitable scent of manure. But I love it here. Every time I give them the same sort of answer: “I wanted to come to the east coast to try something different, be out on my own, do my own thing,” and yes, I mean it when I say that, but there’s more to it than that. When surrounded by people who’ve known me since childhood, it’s harder to focus on who I am now versus who I was then. Coming far away from home gave me the opportunity to find myself by myself. Being alone, truly alone, gave me time to focus on just me, not the “me” people other people think of.