Healing the Self-Inflicted
*Another sub-par entry, in my opinion, but I think I'm on my way to getting my Creative Mojo back...*
When I was in 6th grade, which I suppose would have made me twelve (I still associate times in my life with grade in school rather than age), I went with my parents and siblings to California for Christmas with relatives. I still remember the day it was confirmed that we were going. I was so excited because for one, it would result in my first plane ride, and two, it would be my first time to California and my first time meeting some of the family out there. I told myself I was going to be so cool, I was going to make such an impression on those relatives I had never met and they would be blown away by how awesome I was. I thought I was so grown up and so special but, as you may have guessed, I ended up making a complete idiot of myself.
How. Embarassing. Let me explain:
For one thing, I was a total brat to my brother and sister. I thought I was so witty with my childish remarks, and so cool with my refusal to cooperate with my siblings. I remember my aunt took us kids to Haight Ashbury in San Francisco and my brother wanted to take a picture of the house the Grateful Dead used to live in, but I refused to let him use my camera. Why? I have no idea. I didn't even know why then, but I still acted like a brat. I put up such a fight over a picture in front of an unfamiliar relative. What a lovely portrayal of character, right? Yeah. Sad.
For another thing, and on a completely different behavioral wave, I was shy to the point of snobishness (is that a word? I don't know, just go along with me here). The sleeping arrangements were such that my siblings and I stayed at our aunt and uncle's and my parents stayed with my grandparents. However, after one or two nights at my aunt's I got "parent sick" I suppose, and ended up sleeping on the couch at the grandparents'. And even worse, at one point when it was necessary that I sit in the front seat of the car in between my grandparents so everyone else would fit in the back seat, I cried until I was allowed to squeeze in the back with my father. I'm sure that came off as cool. Definitely. For some reason I just became completely attached to my father and wasn't happy if we needed to be separated.
I realize that I was just a little kid then, and most kids that age are brats at some point, and none of us are anywhere near as cool as we think we are. I also realize that it's much more embarassing and memorable to me than it probably is to my aunt and uncle or my grandparents, but it's something that bothers me from time to time. I want to redeem myself, which leads to the reason I'm reminiscing on this painful subject now. You see, my mother and I will likely be returning to California this summer to visit the family, and meet more new members (two kids have been born to the aunt and uncle since my first visit). I really want to go, not only for the change in scenery and the chance to see the Bay Area in the summer, but for the chance to finally show who I really am, who I have grown up to become.
I want to show my relatives that I have become a mature and passionate young woman with wit and talent. I want to exhibit my good natured personality and prove, most especially to myself, that I am capable of being adult, capable of being the person I've told myself that I am, because all these years I have told myself that these people see me the way I look upon myself at that age: as a misbehaved child. Just over the past year I have grown up so much, not to mention the six years before it, and this could be my chance to put all of that maturing to the test. It's actually a selfish venture, but a potentially healing and again, redeeming one. That's what a trip to California represents to me: redemption.
I should add, the picture takin' will be mighty good too.
When I was in 6th grade, which I suppose would have made me twelve (I still associate times in my life with grade in school rather than age), I went with my parents and siblings to California for Christmas with relatives. I still remember the day it was confirmed that we were going. I was so excited because for one, it would result in my first plane ride, and two, it would be my first time to California and my first time meeting some of the family out there. I told myself I was going to be so cool, I was going to make such an impression on those relatives I had never met and they would be blown away by how awesome I was. I thought I was so grown up and so special but, as you may have guessed, I ended up making a complete idiot of myself.
How. Embarassing. Let me explain:
For one thing, I was a total brat to my brother and sister. I thought I was so witty with my childish remarks, and so cool with my refusal to cooperate with my siblings. I remember my aunt took us kids to Haight Ashbury in San Francisco and my brother wanted to take a picture of the house the Grateful Dead used to live in, but I refused to let him use my camera. Why? I have no idea. I didn't even know why then, but I still acted like a brat. I put up such a fight over a picture in front of an unfamiliar relative. What a lovely portrayal of character, right? Yeah. Sad.
For another thing, and on a completely different behavioral wave, I was shy to the point of snobishness (is that a word? I don't know, just go along with me here). The sleeping arrangements were such that my siblings and I stayed at our aunt and uncle's and my parents stayed with my grandparents. However, after one or two nights at my aunt's I got "parent sick" I suppose, and ended up sleeping on the couch at the grandparents'. And even worse, at one point when it was necessary that I sit in the front seat of the car in between my grandparents so everyone else would fit in the back seat, I cried until I was allowed to squeeze in the back with my father. I'm sure that came off as cool. Definitely. For some reason I just became completely attached to my father and wasn't happy if we needed to be separated.
I realize that I was just a little kid then, and most kids that age are brats at some point, and none of us are anywhere near as cool as we think we are. I also realize that it's much more embarassing and memorable to me than it probably is to my aunt and uncle or my grandparents, but it's something that bothers me from time to time. I want to redeem myself, which leads to the reason I'm reminiscing on this painful subject now. You see, my mother and I will likely be returning to California this summer to visit the family, and meet more new members (two kids have been born to the aunt and uncle since my first visit). I really want to go, not only for the change in scenery and the chance to see the Bay Area in the summer, but for the chance to finally show who I really am, who I have grown up to become.
I want to show my relatives that I have become a mature and passionate young woman with wit and talent. I want to exhibit my good natured personality and prove, most especially to myself, that I am capable of being adult, capable of being the person I've told myself that I am, because all these years I have told myself that these people see me the way I look upon myself at that age: as a misbehaved child. Just over the past year I have grown up so much, not to mention the six years before it, and this could be my chance to put all of that maturing to the test. It's actually a selfish venture, but a potentially healing and again, redeeming one. That's what a trip to California represents to me: redemption.
I should add, the picture takin' will be mighty good too.
posted by Shelly at
8:52 PM
2 Comments:
Shelly,
I'm going up to Lincoln for law school...another 3 years...then I'll have to get acquainted with the real world:).
None of us should ever think of how we were when we were that age and worry about it! All of us were probably misbehaved brats at some point in time, if not most of the time. I realize for you because it's not that far away and the first time you'll see your relatives since then that it's a bigger deal, but I'm sure they don't remember you the way you do. And I'm sure you're a much more mature, poised young lady now and it'll go just fine! You'll have a great time with them.
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