I'm not cynical. I was just drawn that way.
The Week in Selfies: 9/7/20 - 9/13/20
To be honest, I’m not sure I have what it takes to thrive in this fast-paced environment.
I am continuing on with the subscription donation project. The organization for September is Las Fotos Project. (Thank you, Monet, for the suggestion.)
If you are new here (welcome!) or need a refresher about the project, you can always find more details of the project on my About page.
So, if you are enjoying this newsletter or connecting to it at all, I’d love if you would like, comment, or give it a social media shout out to help make the impact go farther. We’ve really plateaued in terms of subscriptions, so if you could share the newsletter with just one other person, I will be so excited. You have no idea. My face will light. up.
AND, when we reach 100 subscribers, I’ll start taking selfie submissions which I think will be FUN.
A professor once told me I was cynical.
This was acting class feedback but they were criticizing the way I am.
I was confused. I was confused as to how they could hear my sarcasm-laden humor and see my general pragmatism and read that dripping with self-interest and a distrust in sincerity.
It is likely I didn’t say anything back. What they said was the opposite of illuminating; it was like a lightbulb turning off. So, I left their office quietly and walked outside.
Because this was someone I admired and whose expertise I trusted, and because it felt like it had something to do with my big dreams for my life, I tried to look at my life and understand what they were talking about. You know, so maybe I could change it.
The more I did that, the more confused I became. Every time I looked at my friends and were in awe of their talent and presence, I worried those feelings were antithetical to something inherent. When I discovered my now all-time favorite book in a class, a book that on the surface is about loneliness but is really about found family and discovering yourself, I was unsure as to why a theme of sincere connection resonated so deeply with me. All the hours I spent watching and learning any one musical inside and out simply because it made me laugh, started to feel like wasted hours. If I left the theatre changed by someone’s art, I was sure that change would be temporary and I would be back to a more wary viewpoint soon.
When you are 19 or 20 and someone tells you something about yourself, it feels like a truth universally acknowledged that you somehow missed. This feeling can, of course, crop up at any age. It’s often easier to believe someone else’s view of you than your own. But when your frontal lobe is not fully developed and someone turns off the light, you are apt to sit in that darkness for a while.
Anyway, what they said about me wasn't true.
There is a lesson to be taken from everything. Or, since I know now (as we all do) that I am an established sap, I think there is a lesson to be taken from everything. That little, seemingly minuscule, moment taught me that someone may look at you all the time and never really see you. It showed me a lot of people are going to try and tell you who you are but that doesn’t mean that is who you are. If it doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t have to be right. It’s not you.
Hilariously, typing the lesson reads like I have a general distrust of people. I do think there are people who will actually see you. But there’s not a lot you can do about who someone will think you are. What I am so happy I learned from this is that you control your light; you get to be who you are. As for the rest sitting in the dark, here’s hoping they find the light switch.
Monday, September 7, 2020
Hey look! A light!
Tuesday, September 8, 2020
The next three poses are basically the same.
Wednesday, September 9, 2020
Obviously, this isn’t me. But the pose is on point.
Thursday, September 10, 2020
I’m out here just tryping my best…in this same pose.
Friday, September 11, 2020
Oh! This pose is pretty much the same too.
Saturday, September 12, 2020
Some more light.
Sunday, September 13, 2020
If you haven’t walked through a cemetery lately, I highly recommend it.
This week, paying subscribers learned about the time I dropped an $8 beverage so as to avoid an awkward interaction. If that sounds intriguing to you, consider becoming a paid subscriber.