Lack of Adulthood

Recently, I've found myself getting terribly anxious at the most inopportune times.

Tonight, while enjoying a lovely, queso-filled dinner with Zachnomary, Meghanom, and Jenny Andersonom, I received a truly hurtful and upsetting phone call, which jilted me and removed me from my happiness, which these days can be very short-lived. The purpose of this phone call was to cut me down, break me apart, and hit me below-the-belt. It was intentional and undeserved. Congratulations, you succeeded. In set my anxiety-- my stomach started turning, twisting itself into a writhing ball. My chest tightened, and as my heart began racing, I started thinking of all the bad in my life, and the good was suddenly blocked out, not to return until tomorrow, if I'm lucky.

I was told that I need to "grow up."

So here is my response to you, person who will remain anonymous, only to protect feelings, I suppose. Although, there comes a point when you aren't sure why you're trying to protect feelings anymore, as it has become apparent that your feelings are never protected...

I am 23 years old. No, I am 23 years young. I have a college degree, I am well-read, focused and smart. I am motivated and talented in my own respects. I do not give myself away too easily (in more ways than one), I do not hold any substance dependencies that could potentially harm my future. Yes, I am a smoker. Yes, I drink, but I drink for fun, not necessity. I steer-clear of drugs and my mind is in the right place.

I am unemployed and doing the best I can in an economy and a world that is harsh and unforgiving. I am trying my best, and my best is all I can give.

I followed my dream and got the fuck out of Dodge. I moved to a mysterious and intimidating city, scared out of my mind, and I didn't give up. I won't give up. I strayed away from the "norm" of small-town America-- go to college, find a boyfriend, marry him, have kids, work a job that you hate because you're trapped. Live in a home that you hate because you're a prisoner. Live a life that you are unhappy with because it's all you know, and all you care to know.

So I am thankful that I am not a teacher, since that was not the path I was supposed to take right now. I am thankful I am not married. I am thankful I am not tied-down to anything or anyone. I am thankful that I live a life that is never boring in a city where opportunities and possibilities are endless.

I've recently learned that it doesn't matter how other people see you. It matters how you see yourself. If I can find positivity within me, and not let others dictate and judge who I am, that will radiate into security and confidence to others. I find that people are incredibly drawn to those who are comfortable with themselves.

Tonight when I was walking back to the train, feeling broken and bummed, and being guided by Bon Iver's beautiful yet daunting voice, it suddenly hit me-- everything really, truly will work itself out. So maybe this doesn't seem like much of a realization to you, but it's so easy to get down in this city. It's so easy to let this city take you in and spit you out. Sometimes it feels as though you're swimming downstream when everyone else is making their way up. Angst and hatred and despair sets in... why is it that everyone else is climbing the proverbial ladder, and you're getting left behind? This wasn't how it was supposed to be... this isn't where life was supposed to lead you.

And then, for a second, everything stops moving. The cabs cease in their place. The suits in the Financial District pause their Heinekeins, the scenesters in Williamsburg stop dancing, and the socialites in the Upper East Side halt the clack-clack-clack of their heels on marble, penthouse apartment floors. And just before you lose control, and just before you fall to pieces, by yourself, alone, on 2nd and 15th, you look to your left, and see a man playing the guitar. A "Hallelujah" cover streams past your ear buds, and you stop and listen. And when you do, he looks up, and he smiles as he sings, as he strums the guitar, and he catches your eye. He stares at you. He doesn't stop staring as he sings. He doesn't stop smiling. He doesn't skip a beat, and at that moment, you remember why you are here.

I woke up this morning, and my room mate wished me luck as she fixed her hair for her audition today. She doesn't usually expect to get the part, but she tries anyway. Over and over again, she keeps her spirit strong. Maybe it's the support she receives, no matter what. Maybe it's the positivity in her life that she holds on to tightly. Maybe it's her strong-will. Regardless, many people could learn a lesson from her, if they'd look a little further.

I left my apartment this morning, and I went to my 2nd interview, which I was called back for because I charmed them in the first round. By myself. Without help. Without guidance. And even if that job doesn't work out, then something else will, eventually. The CEO of the company told me she liked my earrings, and commented that they compliment my face well. The company I was interviewing with is a high-end jewlery showroom.

I walked to the train this morning, and a guy about my age, wearing a plaid shirt and cut-off jean shorts stopped me on the street just to tell me he thinks I'm pretty. He apologized if it sounded strange to say, and I smiled and thanked him. He gave me a friendly wink, and we both continued on our ways.

I walked through SoHo after the interview, and a man tried to sell me a "great deal" to a hair salon in the east side. He said he thought I was beautiful, and my smile captivated him. After I told him I was unemployed and could not afford a haircut right now, he said he didn't want my money, and handed me two free tickets to his comedy show next week in the Lower East Side. He told me there was a two-drink minimum, but to ask for him when I got there, and he'd take care of it. He also warned me not to come on Tuesday or Wednesday, because those are the amateur nights, and he didn't want me to waste my time.

Today, I walked into H&M to find a new pair of leggings, fingers-crossed they were on sale. I was captured on camera, and asked if I wanted to sign a waiver for an MTV reality television show, so that my face could appear on the screen. I told them it was fine and I wouldn't take legal action against them if I wasn't blurred out. The camera man and producer both laughed and told me to "take care" and "have a great evening."

As the R train arrived today, a man stopped to let me on before him. Then another man gave me his seat. A girl complimented my shoes in Union Square, and a cavasser talked to me for 15 minutes about Lollapalooza (after educating me on the children I should be saving), and he gave me his phone number and a hug before I walked away. He told me that most people are so mean to him, and that he hoped for good things in my future. His name is Sam. I like him.

Then I sat down in the park, I took out The Picture of Dorian Gray, and I happily read while listening to a Jazz band play behind me. I met up with RJ, who never fails to put a smile on my face, even if just for a moment. He gave his normal greeting, followed by, "You look very pretty today." I ran into my friend Jocelyn, who I haven't seen in weeks, at the cafe RJ chose, since the one next door was a bit too crowded.

We enjoyed our beers, commented on people walking by and why living in this city is so different than visiting this city. It's a bond that only we can understand, and maybe this is why people hate New Yorkers. You don't know New York until you truly experience the highs and lows that give New York and the people a bad name. Maybe we are hardened by experiences. Maybe we are proud of where we live, what we have done, the things we have accomplished... why is that such a terrible thing? New York is a challenge. This is why I will struggle and complain and moan and loathe and question myself innumerable times. But this is why I love this city. This is why I'm supposed to be here.

Today, life really wasn't so bad.

So in response to the statement, "you need to grow up." I have this to say, and I will say it one time. I might be unemployed. I might be without a seemingly healthy relationship. I might be poor and struggling. I might make ill-fated decisions and spend too much time bothering with situations that will take me nowhere. People who mean nothing. Ideas and thoughts and dreams that will never come true.
But I have done more growing in the past year than you can possibly fathom, and maybe if you'd look a little deeper than material things and realize that money is not my definition of happiness even if it is yours, you would realize how grown I actually am, and how much growing I will continue to do. I thank you for all you've done, but I will not forgive you for what you've said.

Excuse me, I have to go enjoy my life and cherish my experiences now.


xxM