Myself

I had an interesting creative writing assignment this week. I had to describe myself from different points of view, including my own and my enemy's. Because I have nothing better to post today, I'll let you read them for yourselves.

People say that the hardest thing to do is to know oneself. Well, I’m here to prove that to you. I don’t quite know who I am. The labels people try to stick on me are laughable. I’m a “perky Goth;” I’m a “capable and mature young woman;” I’m “emo;” “homeschooled;” “Christian;” “insufferable.” It’s reassuring to know other people are secure in my identity. Personally, I wish they’d agree on something. It’s hard to find myself when I’m both a drama-queen and immensely practical. All these artificial labels confuse me. Who am I? I’m Problematic: female; age seventeen. Insert your adjective here.

The lifespan of a teenager is supposedly spent trying to find that teenager’s identity. I suppose there’s some truth in that - I just haven’t found my identity yet. Who am I? I’m a truth seeker. I search to find ultimate reality. I search to find myself, and I long to discover others. I’m a philosopher: I love wisdom.  There’s more to it, though. I’m sarcastic: I cope with pain by laughing at it. GK Chesterton is one of my favorite authors and he once stated “Always be comic in a tragedy. What the deuce else can you do?” I heartily agree. Pain is best dealt with when treated lightly.

All this could be condensed into some simple facts. I’m a teenager, driven by hormones, searching for myself. We’ll see how well I find what I’m looking for.

~*~

I dislike Problematic. She’s insufferable, a nuisance. She’s a mélange of arrogance, insecurity, and 

prudishness. How can I explain it?

Ah, an example. Say, for instance, she goes to a party full of strangers. While the party has a good time, Problematic sits in the corner, smiling occasionally and passing judgment on the lesser mortals. They’re enjoying themselves too much. This one is a flirt, that one is an exhibitionist. The one in the center of the room is perverted. You don’t want to know what sort of pedantic thoughts flit through her head if she sees a couple go off by their selves. Granted, she never acts on these musings, but you cannot deny their existence.  

What makes this stiff formality even worse is her reaction to its effects. Instead of feeling satisfaction from knowing that no one likes her, Problematic instead grows morose and wonders at her continued state of unpopularity. It is within her power to change her reputation, but her attempts fail nonetheless. When she does loosen up and enjoy herself, she becomes loud and obnoxious. She’ll glance nervously about the room while laughing raucously, looking for a sign of disapproval in her companions’ faces. What would happen when she finds discomfort is not what you’d think. Rather than returning to her silent state, Problematic instead grows louder and more intolerable. 

Believe me when I say Problematic is an annoying twit without an ounce of social graces. I have to live with her every day, and her inability to do anything right wears on me. If you confront her on your new information, she’ll deny it. But your comments will just increase her insecurity. My job here is done.

~*~

There you have it. Myself from my own perspective and my enemy's. Bet that's more of a look at Problematic's psyche than you were really looking for today.