Entry Five - Grown Up Face
I would do a side-by-side comparison of my face now and my face then, but I’m lazy. Instead, I’ll allow you to go dig on my Instagram and enjoy this stunning tree in the meantime.
The other day I took a selfie, and when I looked back at it, it took a moment for me to recognize myself. It was less of a lack of recognition and more of a disconnect between the face I saw on the screen and the one I remembered to be on my face. In the picture, my hair was pulled back and my bangs sat square on my forehead. I was glancing up towards the sky at the camera held above me by my own hand. I looked like myself but I didn’t immediately recognize it was me, and that scared me. In the following days, I took more and more pictures, growing more and more anxious about my uncanny face. Each picture was closer to the truth of my real face than the last, but still just slightly off. After days of restless confusion about what I looked like I realized; this was my grown-up face. This discovery turned my terror into excitement, as I’ve literally had the same face since I was thirteen years old. I was finally starting to look my age which was more comforting to me than completely losing sight of who I was and what I looked like. A year ago, the prospect of “growing up” would’ve freaked me out. I believed I would be seventeen forever, anything else would be a travesty. But now all I could think was how beautiful it was to finally be growing.
All my life I regarded myself as a solitary being. I didn’t think I was doomed to eternal solitude and punishment, but I felt that (at least at the moment) I was supposed to be by myself. It wasn’t meant to be cynical or depressing, it was simply my fact of life. I had accepted it and learned to live with it. But all it takes is one perfect girl to shake up everything you think you know about yourself, and it’s only recently after the most beautiful summer that I learned; I need people and people need me. A year ago that revelation would have frightened me, but now it makes me feel warm and cozy. I’m a people person, just like every human is a people person. I want to be loved and love. And of course, the moment my desire for companionship and connection is ignited, I move to a quiet village in the middle of nowhere, where I’m surrounded by miles and miles of grass and farmland.
All cosmic jokes aside, I think now is the perfect time for me to be here. All my life I’ve been a city girl, I felt I thrived in the fast-paced day-to-day that was inherent to city living. I liked it when my life moved faster than I could comprehend, I liked to constantly get on to the next thing. I didn’t think I needed time to look back and reflect. I just wanted to keep going as fast as I could, and so I did. But now that I’ve been gifted my grown-up face, and been graced with the realization that solitude is not for me, I’ve begun to think about all the other important things in my life that could change. What if the pillars of my life that once held it together and made me feel like myself have started to crumble? As I begin to grow, will they grow along with me? Or will they burst, and set me free? I thought I would be a city girl for life because that was all I knew. But what if that’s not really me? What if I love the farm, and green grassy pastures, and bike rides as a primary form of transportation? And how would I ever know if I never left the city?
I think of that Emily Dickinson quote, “I am out looking for myself with lanterns.” A year ago I’d probably challenge myself to go search for my truth with lanterns, to dash through myself with a machete and cut away the vines guarding me from myself while moving at the speed of light. But not now, I’m too tired. I’ll take the easy way instead. I’ll long for myself. I’ll wander and stroll and stumble upon myself. I’ll turn into dark corners in new cities and hope I’ll be there waiting. And if not I’ll keep wandering until my back aches and my feet cramp, then spend the next few days resting. I’ll write letters to myself, and patiently await a response, and when I don’t get one it won’t matter, the act of writing the letter was enough. I’ll sit around and wait for myself, I’ll give myself grace.
And so my goal for the few months I’ll spend away from home is to find myself. I know, what a study abroad cliche, but it’s different and special when I do it (I’m kidding, everyone go find yourself). I meant to upload this journal almost two weeks ago but time got away from me, and I’m glad it did. I came to a different conclusion while revising this than the one I initially wrote twelve days ago. I’ve already grown, how wonderful.
Tot Ziens!
The castle is beautiful, although I will admit I need to spend more time outside before the rain comes. I have some fun new friends, and my room has a slight ladybug invasion which is concerning but sweet. I’m going to Germany tomorrow which I’m really excited about and I was in London last weekend. I’ll definitely be going to a lot more cool places before the semester is over. I miss my girl (a lot) but she’s never too far. Every once and a while I feel homesick, but not too much. Above all, I’m grateful for my time here and the opportunity, so I’m savoring every moment. I’m currently reading Nightwood by Djunna Barnes, which is regarded as a staple in modernist literature and one of the first explicitly lesbian novels. So far I’m a little bit confused but intrigued, I’ll update if I have any strong feelings. I’ve been listening to a lot of Blood Orange, and a healthy amount of Jeff Buckley (there is no healthy amount of Jeff Buckley,) and I’m rewatching Killing Eve for my television writing class. Most importantly I’m growing, I can’t express how excited I am.
