I wrote this for an in-class assignment in a Gender and Sexuality in Literature course I am taking this summer. We were prompted to write a story about ourselves... mine took more of a manifesto route:
I am an empath.
For many years I had no idea what an empath was. All I know is that I felt things. Deep things. As a child I
was called “overly sensitive” and a “crybaby” on a regular basis. I did not
understand why I felt out of control regarding my emotions. Many times I would
get angry, I was not sure how to describe my feelings, which was frustrating to
say the least. I preferred reading and spending time alone than having a big
group of friends. Giant sleepovers gave me anxiety. First of all, I loved my
sleep. It was when my body, spirit, mind, soul and brain could rest and
recharge from a day of absorbing everyone else’s energies. I had yet to
discovering the incredibly healing and cleansing practice of yoga. So at the
time, sleeping was my saving grace. So the idea of being surrounded by a bunch
of overly dramatic, loud and sassy 12 year olds who were planning on staying up
until 1 AM prank calling their crushes made me literally want to die. For
several reasons; not only am I an empath, but also an old soul. I’ve never
“felt my age”. I’ve always found it difficult to connect with my peers. In
elementary school girls were obsessed with cute boys and dolls, I was more
interested in animals and my trampoline. In Middle school I was annoyed beyond
belief with pre-pubescent nonsense. It was not unusual for me to be left out or
completely forgotten when it came to social gatherings. I was “too deep” and my
friends just wanted to have fun. I had yet to meet other’s who enjoyed
wine-induced conversations about the universe, God and where we came from. At first it made me sad, but then I
realized I’d rather spend my weekends with my mom, watching the Lion King with
my brother and taking my dogs on a walk. High School was an extension of the
immaturity of middle school, just add raging hormones and poor decisions. I did
not understand why my friends were hiding vodka, stolen from their parent’s
liquor cabinet, in a water bottle under their socks. I’d hear countless stories
of my acquaintances sneaking out at night and meeting boys they “met” on
myspace at a local playground to get high. What’s more was learning the most
accurate sex ed I would ever hear at the time, from my friend at 15 in the
girls locker room during gym class. For a while I’d get annoyed with myself. I
could not understand why I was incapable of being a wreckless teenager and
“living it up”.
As I crossed the
stage at my college graduation 3 weeks ago and pondered the life I’ve led thus
far, I would not have acted any differently. I do not regret opting for wine
and Netflix nights as opposed to blackouts on Greek Row. I’ve never been more
grateful for my empathetic old soul nature. It has inspired me to take my
education further to Grad school, has pushed me to confront the society I live
in and refuse to take part in “normal” aspects of American life. I am my own
person. Spending so much time alone and giving myself the space to explore my
interests and discover what I am passionate about has meant more than any prank
call I could have made to my middle school crush. I am a self proclaimed loner,
nerd, and tomboy. And although those identities may not be desirable to the
average 20-something, I have accepted long time ago that I’m not your average
20-something.
Do what you want and don't give a damn<3
namaste,
The 20-something old soul
No comments:
Post a Comment