I’ve always had a problem with balance. My mother is constantly reminding me how moderation is key in all aspects of life, but I find myself attracted to extremes.
It’s an impossible feat to describe myself in adjectives. I’m immaturely mature. I have an old soul with a spontaneous side. I’m confident in my façade and secretly self-conscious.
For example, I love little kids and old people, but struggle to form connections with kids my age.
There is an unexplainable beauty that children possess with their innocent nature and naïve social cues. The same beauty is present in the elderly but for the opposite reason. Their worldly experiences and endless wisdom are intriguing and endearing, making my heart melt.
My generation is full of judgmental, condescending and Internet-obsessed fiends, whereas both young and old are very humorous and carefree.
It’s easy to engage in conversation with either age group, but small talk with fellow 18-year-olds is a struggle. Older folks are so appreciative to hear any mundane detail of your life, and kids are easily amused and curious to learn.
For the most part, if you try to chat with a teenager, their angsty mood and superior tone lead you to feeling like a nuisance.
Another struggle in my contradicting way of life is my weekend habits. Some nights I’m free spirited and ready to be the life of the party. The people that I associate with on those nights are convinced that I’m always wildly foolish and crazy.
It’s quite the contrary. I’m perfectly content with snuggling up with a good book, discovering some good tunes or watching a “Harry Potter” marathon all night on Friday or Saturday.
I’ve always been told that college is a great opportunity to find yourself and solidify your identity. My family and lifelong friends believe that my personality hasn’t changed much since the third grade, and I find that problematic.
My first year at Bradley is close to completion and although I still haven’t “found” myself or know the answer to life’s greatest questions, I did have an epiphany of sorts.
I don’t have to restrict myself to one label. My Myers-Briggs personality test may claim that I am an ENFP, but the nature of my ways shouldn’t be altered based on the belief that I must confine myself to one type of person.
I’m a firm believer of having to love yourself before you love others. The first step in accepting all of life’s beautiful opportunities and experiences is to accept who you are. I know I have, and now it’s only up the Hilltop from here.
