How Social Media is Making Me Want to Change Who I Am

I love social media. I have Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, a poetry blog, a random thoughts blog (this one), a book-reading blog, Snapchat, a YouTube channel, and probably a few others that haven't immediately come to mind. And while I thoroughly enjoy most aspects of them, I've noticed a somewhat unsettling side effect they seem to have on me.

It seems to be that I can't stop feeling discontent when I start to scroll through my various social networks.

Especially with Valentine's happening last week, I flipped through picture upon picture upon picture of The Perfect Boyfriend and The Surprise Roses and The Romantic Scavenger Hunt. And each time I saw these things, knowing full well that I was not in the pool of recipients of such awesomeness, I felt a stab of jealousy. I found myself even less happy about my lack of soul mate than usual when reflecting on my additional lack of expensive chocolate and beautiful bouquet. 

And this doesn't mean that I was only discontent last week. I often find myself swallowing sighs of resentment as I see an elated I'm Engaged! post or a picture of My Beautiful New Ring. In this No Man's Land of post-college twentysomethingness, everyone is landing dream jobs, getting married, having babies, and living happily ever after. 

A few days ago, I was scrolling through the explore section of Instagram. I happened upon an account belonging to one of those girls who has an insanely good body and only puts up pictures of herself being hot. Being hot on the beach. Being hot in her pajamas. Being hot having drinks with friends. Being hot with a puppy. You get the idea. And I felt so unhappy with my own appearance. Every time I see something like this, I'm jealous. "She's probably one of those girls who doesn't even have to try," I think to myself bitterly. Or even if she did have to try really REALLY hard, why does she get to look so hot? I've lost 60 pounds and I still look like a beached whale in a bikini.

So maybe it's time to swear off social media, since all it does is make me see how lame my life is compared to everybody else's.

And then today, as I saw an excited post about something genuinely good happening to someone, I began to examine my own discontentment. 

Why am I bitter or resentful or jealous when something good happens to someone else? When has another girl getting flowers meant that something was taken away from me? And whatever happened to being genuinely happy for other people when something awesome happens? 

What if I felt happiness for other people every time they had a good thing happen? That would mean that even if I was having a horrible day, I could get on Facebook and see an album about My Dream Trip to Florence and feel happier. Not because anything good happened to me. Just because someone I knew had something good happen to them. And that should make me happy. Because I like other people, and I want their lives to be good and happy and filled with expensive chocolate and beautiful flowers and rings and marriages and babies and fun jobs. 

This is not to say that I will immediately begin to feel overwhelming joy when someone else has a great day and I just stepped in a puddle in my new shoes and gained five pounds and am still single and don't have a puppy. But it does mean that I'm going to stop looking at everything through the lens of "why life isn't as nice to me as it is to them" and start looking through "hey, life is cool and people have awesome experiences". 

So even if I am not the hot girl on Instagram (which, to be honest, is fair, considering the fact that I just ate a sleeve of Peeps and an entire Totino's pizza), I am still a girl with lots of cool experiences and plenty of selfies to go around. And even if I don't have The Perfect Boyfriend who gave me A Dazzling Bouquet of Sunflowers with a note that says, "These flowers will never compare to you," I will someday (perhaps not exactly like that, but hopefully something cheesy and embarrassing and cute) and I should be happy for people who do. 

So yes, social media does make me want to change. But I think that becoming a person who is happy for other people with no agendas is probably a change for the better.

this is the new year: my increasingly crazy resolutions

another year you made a promise/another chance to turn it all around/and do not wait until tomorrow/embrace the past and you can live for now.

-ian axel, "this is the new year"

a few years ago, this song played during the credits of an MTV show called I Used to Be Fat. i remember watching four or five episodes of the show during christmas break my sophomore year of college. the show followed the lives of teenagers the summer after their senior year of high school, before they went off to college. the teenagers were overweight, and they were given the opportunity to work hard to lose weight and get healthy before starting this new journey; to be new people. 

i watched that show, listening to this song, and felt inspired. i myself was overweight, and seeing those success stories was a turning point. i have spent the last 3 years with a different outlook and mindset about my weight, and have successfully lost about 60 pounds. 

that new year (2011) was a game changer for me. i stood at the edge of the year, full of possibilities and promise, and i actually accomplished something. (sure, i didn't lose all 60 that year. probably about 25 or 30). i saw that i had the opportunity to do something that i wanted to do, and i did it. it was extremely empowering! and while i still sometimes feel like a fatty and whine about my weight and wish i was thinner, i am healthier and more active than i had been for the rest of my life previous to that year. 

for 2012, i gave up drinking soda. i didn't have one sip of soda that entire year. it was a beautiful thing. after a while, ordering iced tea or water at a restaurant wasn't as devastating as it had been at the beginning (this came after kicking a wicked diet coke with lime habit). and it also helped me see that when i had literally said to someone, "i could never ever stop drinking soda," i was wrong. i could, and i did. before, i just hadn't wanted to.

for 2013, i gave up eating meat. i thought that it would be a good exercise in self-control, and i figured it would help me cut down on eating fast food (which, despite some marginally good efforts, had begun to become a habit-- what with late night college study parties, etc.). it was awesome. i hated it and complained loudly and obnoxiously for the first month, and after that, didn't look back at all. sure, bacon smelled good (and i will tell you, fake bacon is NOT worth it. simply not).... but it was overall an extremely satisfying way to stretch myself to the next level of resolutions.

this year, i debated for about a week into the new year. i thought maybe pescetarian, maybe vegan, maybe no refined sugar... couldn't decide. i ate one meal of fish, and decided i didn't want to do pescetarian. after a year of no meat, it was too weird to eat it all of a sudden. so i chose vegan. i started on the 6th, so i guess i'll be vegan until january 6, 2015. if all goes according to plan. so far it hasn't been too bad. just a lot of beans and rice and vegetables.

people are always saying, "why do you need to do this?".... and i guess my answer is that i love the challenge. not to prove to the world i'm awesome, but to prove to myself that i can have that self-control. i generally have very little self-control (shopping, dark chocolate, self-indulgent blog posts), so i like to stretch myself. and, as a perennial dieter/calorie counter/food obsessor, i find that my relationship with food is emotional--too much so. this year, i knew being vegan would cause me to forego many of my favorite go-to sad/happy/stressed/angry/bored foods in favor of a healthier or harder-to-access option, and i liked that idea. i don't want food to be any sort of emotional haven for me-- that was one of the biggest issues for me when i was slowly gaining weight throughout high school. 

my family and friends think i'm crazy... because, let's be honest, vegan is kind of crazy. giving up meat was crazy enough for some people... and there are animal byproducts in everything... 

but i bet that by the end of this year, i will have figured out a way to have vegan dark chocolate cake and ice cream and all sorts of awesome things. and even if i haven't, i will have exercised some serious self-control. and i like that. 

i like to joke that my 2015 resolution will be to stop eating altogether. 

Chaos Theory and My Bedroom

Sometimes, my room gets so out of control that I simply cannot even think of cleaning it.

I'm talking everything I've ever worn in my life thrown on the floor, books and papers stacked on every available surface, guitar on the half of my bed I don't sleep on, and shoes: mismatched, single, and lonely scattered like debris throughout the wreckage.

In moments like these, when I've furrowed two little holes out of the piles in which to place my feet, I survey my room and feel only panic. It's almost too messy for me even to begin to fathom how it could ever be clean. Or how it ever was.

When my room gets this bad, it usually takes me a few days to work up the courage to clean it. In all seriousness, it does. I have to make myself a little game plan in my head. It always starts with making the bed. There is something about a made bed that immediately restores a bit of calm in a messy room. An island of peace amidst an ocean of chaos.

Then, I can simply start putting things on the bed from the floor. Sorting through the piles on the bed. Filling a basket with dirty clothes, -- "Oh, that's where all my socks went."-- Hanging up the thirteen jackets I tried on and threw off to the side. Reuniting separated shoes and arranging them in my closet. Putting books back on the bookshelf. On and on and on.

I have also begun to notice that there is a direct correlation between the state of my room and the state of me.

My room is a microcosm of my life.

The first time I realized this, I was surprised. It had never even occurred to me. But it is so true, it's almost comical. Crack open my door--if possible-- and you will be given an extremely accurate picture of how I am currently. 

Lately, my room has been absolutely terrifying.

As has my life.

That is not to say that recently any large and traumatic experience has shaken me to the very core. In many ways, my life has been going much the same as it always has. Stable family, stable job, great friends (albeit many far away at this time), and a somewhat even keel (somewhat).

This is to say that lately, I've begun to realize a lot of things about myself that I never knew. Or if I did know, I didn't want to confront. Or, having begun to confront them, I'd felt overwhelmed and walked away. Or, having confronted them, I failed in my convictions to change.

And it all came to a head in the past two weeks. I think this is the fate common to many post-college uncertain twenty-somethings. I graduated college and everything changed. I moved back home, my friends and roommates moved back home or away (either way, not in the same town/house/room as me any longer), I struggled to figure out a job, went through a breakup, and ultimately found myself a bit lost and lonely in a town I'd grown up in. In my old bedroom. Almost like I'd never left and had those four years of huge life changes. Almost.

And because of all of the tumult and confusion, things began to trickle ever slowly into the pool of desperation. Not because everything was so bad. But just because it was time to figure out who I was and what I was doing and who I want to be and what I want to be doing. And because a lot of things that were easy to ignore about myself became glaringly obvious in the harsh light of-- I'm lonely and people seem to find me easy to abandon...why?--I began to finally see myself honestly.

When desperation strikes, it doesn't strike like a bolt of lightning. It's more like water behind a dam, slowly getting more and more full until one day the dam breaks. And though it wasn't totally unpredictable, it's still surprising and unsettling.

I've realized these things lately.

1. I am far more self-centered than I realized. It's all about me. All the time. I talk about myself (hey look... blogging), think about myself, and act solely on my behalf.
2. I am far more insecure than I thought I was. Due to the dissolution of my relationship, the uncertainty that comes with graduating college, and the body image issues I've never quite evaded, my insecurities have reared their ugly head more lately than usual.
3. I'm both my own worst enemy and my own best excuse-maker. I'm good at some things, but I don't think so. I think I'm pretty much worthless as a human being in some respects, and that's dumb. People don't want to be around an incessantly self-deprecating Eeyore. On the other hand, I have a million and one excuses for my vices, foibles, and bad habits. Mostly my excuses come from blaming how others have treated me for how I am now, instead of admitting that I am in control of how I react to things.

Anyway, just as I began the process of cleaning my room a few days ago, I've begun the process of "cleaning" my life. A few recent situations put all of these things in great perspective, so I have started in earnest down the road of Figuring It All Out.
I realize this is not a thing. At least not the All of Figuring It All Out. Because no matter what, there are going to be things going wrong and out of control.

But I'm going to make those steps towards being more unselfish, less self-focused, and more realistic about who I am and what I can and can't do. That's gotta count for something, right?

Chaos theory: When the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future.

Who I am choosing to be right now will in many regards determine who I am in the future. But who I am kind of sort of (not fully satisfied with) right now does not necessarily determine who I have to be. Those approximations and small changes will do a lot to change that outcome.

Starting with my room, and working outward.

That Hipster Sub

I'm not one unaccustomed to people staring at me. Since I was in middle school, I've had a somewhat unconventional sense of style, and my hair is usually huge in some form or another (at one time it was short and circular, now it's long and curly). I'm almost six feet tall, and I am not a naturally slender person. Not overweight, but never, ever small.

It used to bother me, when I would go somewhere and people were overt about giving me a second glance or looking just a few seconds longer than "normal". At that point in my life, I was worried about why they felt the need to keep looking--Am I too fat? Too weirdly dressed? Is it my hair? Is it my height? What is it? Why am I that interesting? I had quite a bit of fear of taking my uniqueness just a bit too far... I worried about what people thought of me fairly constantly, and it wasn't until a few years ago that I gained as much self-assurance as I have now (which still isn't as intact as I like to think it is). At this point, I usually just return the eye contact and take it in stride. I'd rather border on freakish than be nondescript.

This past summer, I worked at a daycare. Very small kids are awesome, because they really don't notice if you're different. Sure, they notice everything, but not the way adults do. They didn't stare at me any more than they stared at any of their teachers. This is the beauty of a child; they see you and accept you as you are. They might ask you why some things about you look a certain way, but they aren't asking in a negative or accusatory or judgmental manner. They're just asking. So I got used to being "normal".

On top of that, my friends know me well enough at this point that they don't give my weirdness a second glance, especially because it is majorly toned down since middle school and high school. At that point, I was whirlwind of spiky short hair (kind of a punk afro), argyle socks, camouflage, neon colors, and floor length skirts. Even people who don't know me generally see me as an adult (a fact I'm not sure I have fully endorsed), and I think that now I dress just unconventionally enough to fall in the hipster category without falling into the holy-cow-look-at-that-girl's-outfit category.

This fall, I began substitute teaching for elementary, middle, and high school students around my town. It has been an interesting experience. I'd almost forgotten I'm not "normal" until I started this job. First of all, I just graduated from college. I'm only 22, so I am one of the youngest subs in the system. The students are always taken aback when they see me-- I could be friends with some of the seniors in a different time and place. Also, according to almost every class I've subbed for, I don't look like a teacher.

We all remember our subs-- crotchety old ladies who taught once upon a time, but that was in the seventies, and they have long since retired. They reemerge in public schools that move much too quickly for them, grumpy about kids who talk, kids who have phones, kids who wear ripped jeans--kids in general.

So as I stand in front of them-- tall, big hair, unconventional clothes, nose ring, eyeliner, and just so young, they're confused. I always feel a little uncomfortable for a few seconds, and always say something like, "So, as you can see, I'm not your teacher..." which is usually met with giggles and a few comments like, "Well that's for sure." After that ice breaks, I'm fine. I get less worried about whether or not they'll take me seriously and more interested in getting to know them as students. And students of every age are fairly open in their assessments of me as well. A few things I've heard so far:

-Wait... you are our sub?

-How old are you? You look like a 16-year-old. (told to me by a seventh grader)

-Can you sub here again? (Before I even said a word to the class)

-I've never had a sub who looks like you.

-You look like that girl who sings "Royals". (Lorde)

And it's funny, because I know that 90% of the time, they like me without knowing me at all. After all, if you could pick between a young "hipster" sub or an old lady with her knitting needles poking out of her bag, who would you pick? Who would you have picked in high school? I know that there are plenty of other subs who are also not ancient and grumpy, but that is the stereotype and I certainly don't fit that.

Looking like someone you would meet thrifting (which, let's be honest, is definitely somewhere you could meet me) and not like a typical teacher has both drawbacks and advantages. Yes, students naturally feel a little more inclined to think I'm cool, and they don't want me to have to tell them to stop messing around. So in that way, I inadvertently demand respect. Demand doesn't seem like the right word. Too assertive. I just sort of am young and interesting, so they want to listen a little more.

However, that whole young thing is a disadvantage as well. Being a 22-year-old authority figure for 18-year-old seniors is a little weird. A few of my friends are barely older than that. I certainly don't feel any older than I felt when I was 18. I remember being a senior, feeling old for high school but young for Life After High School, which was both terrifying and exhilarating to think about. I still feel that tension as a 22-year-old. For all intents and purposes, I am young.

Most people are still older than me, and I have that undeniable feeling of having pretty much my whole life ahead of me. So do I feel like I can stand at the front of the room and tell a bunch of legal adults to read a story by Poe and answer a prompt? Some days. Some days, it's obvious to them and to me that they're not going to listen and I can't make them.

But even with days where I feel like I did almost nothing helpful, I like it. It's really kind of a cool experience, for the most part. I get to go into a school (most of the time a school I have heard of but never seen from the inside) and meet some students. I get to see the layout of the building, the culture of the school, and then leave. As someone who wrapped up student teaching in May, I love the distinct and beautiful aspect of subbing that I never have to make lesson plans. I've subbed every age level, and I've begun to figure out what ages I really like to work with. I always love that dreaded wasteland of middle school. But that's another post for another day.

Today, I just thought I would give insight into what it's like to be That Hipster Sub.