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“Who I am hates who I’ve been.”
Jun. 30th, 2006 09:50 pmI was cleaning my room last week, and I started reading my old diary. You know, the one I used to keep in a real journal, instead of on the computer. I kind of wish that wasn’t the one that’s going to be preserved, because it was absolutely horrifying. It was from when I was thirteen; a freshman in highschool. Looking back at those entries, I am completely disgusted with myself. I was bitchy to a degree only popularity excuses … and I wasn’t popular.
It’s weird to look back at how much I’ve changed. Who was that little person who claimed my identity four years ago? If I met her now I don’t think I’d like her much … self-satisfied, self-righteous bitch that she was. She thought she was too good for everyone else. Adults always told her she was mature. She thought she was beyond her peers.
Is it strange to look back because of how much I’ve changed, or scary because of how little? Wasn’t it just nine months ago that I told my sister I felt “so beyond” my ex-best friend?
In the past four years I’ve discovered that life is much bigger and more complex than I ever imagined. But has that made me feel smaller, more humble? Or have I simply accepted the idea that I too must be bigger and more complex than I originally believed? I wish rather than believe it to be the former.
Who am I? What have I learned over the past four years? What follies of childhood have I thrown off? I’ve gotten over boys … because obsessing over them detracted from obsessing over myself? The thought it too disgusting to even consider. It’s true that I’ve overcome materialism … at least to the degree that I’m not going to sell my soul to satisfy it. But what about narcissism? What about my unwavering trust in my very fallible judgment?
I am such a child. I have changed so little. True, four years ago I would never have written something like this. But in a way, this self-awareness is worse than ignorance.
It’s weird to look back at how much I’ve changed. Who was that little person who claimed my identity four years ago? If I met her now I don’t think I’d like her much … self-satisfied, self-righteous bitch that she was. She thought she was too good for everyone else. Adults always told her she was mature. She thought she was beyond her peers.
Is it strange to look back because of how much I’ve changed, or scary because of how little? Wasn’t it just nine months ago that I told my sister I felt “so beyond” my ex-best friend?
In the past four years I’ve discovered that life is much bigger and more complex than I ever imagined. But has that made me feel smaller, more humble? Or have I simply accepted the idea that I too must be bigger and more complex than I originally believed? I wish rather than believe it to be the former.
Who am I? What have I learned over the past four years? What follies of childhood have I thrown off? I’ve gotten over boys … because obsessing over them detracted from obsessing over myself? The thought it too disgusting to even consider. It’s true that I’ve overcome materialism … at least to the degree that I’m not going to sell my soul to satisfy it. But what about narcissism? What about my unwavering trust in my very fallible judgment?
I am such a child. I have changed so little. True, four years ago I would never have written something like this. But in a way, this self-awareness is worse than ignorance.
