Growing up, I always told myself that someday, I’d be less awkward. In middle and high school, I never quite figured out how to do many of the things my peers were into. I went to dances in middle school knowing that I’d spend the afternoon sitting with friends outside absorbed in some boy-related drama. This was partially because seventh-grade me was a complete drama magnet, but also because I was terrified to venture onto the dance floor, lest I be compared to the popular kids who seemed to know what they were doing. I could never figure out clothes—my uniform by high school was pretty much jeans and a t-shirt, and I was baffled by the idea of dressing up and trying to coordinate shoes with an outfit. My hair didn’t go into a ponytail easily, and even when up, it never looked as effortlessly pulled together as so many other girls’ cross country practice hairstyles.
I’d always assumed that by a certain age, I’d figure this all out. Not that I’d be popular or trendy, but that I would be able to dress myself and make my hair look decent on a regular basis. To a certain extent, I’ve been able to do this. I’m proud to report that less than half of my wardrobe is made of t-shirts with writing on them, and I have enough pairs of shoes and boots that I can usually scrape together a respectable outfit. I can drink, something high school me thought I’d never be able to say. I feel ok in most social situations.
I thought about this all while we were en route to Greece. We’re staying on Mykonos and Santorini—two incredibly touristy Greek Islands. On Mykonos, our guidebook informs us, the bar scene picks up around 4am, and bars don’t close until 9am. I realized that I’m finally old enough to go out drinking and dancing (Greece has no drinking age, and the purchase age is sixteen).
We went to a bunch of beaches on Mykonos yesterday. All of them had bars and were mostly populated by twenty-somethings , and one (called Super Paradise) was particularly lively, with eardrum-shattering techno playing. It looked like what I’ve always imagined Cancun to be over spring break. And I realized that probably the last thing on earth I wanted to do was hang out and drink on the beach. Granted, this probably would have been different if I’d had friends with me. But I spent most of the day reading (Collapse, by Jared Diamond), and I had a great day.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’ve always been like this. Last spring break, I took a road trip with Clive, and we ended up in Las Vegas for a few nights because we were climbing at Red Rocks. We drove around the strip, got out and walked it for a bit and contemplated going into casinos and checking out some of the famous Vegas attractions. But we were a little creeped out by all the neon and got bored, so we ended up hanging out in our youth hostel eating Mexican sweet bread and watching Spy Kids 2. As a kid, I spent hours and hours reading whenever I had free time, oblivious to or not caring about the fact that friends were swimming or hanging out in the sun. In high school, I read McSweeneys Lists and played Scattergories with friends on Friday nights. I’ve done the nerdy, random thing for my entire life.
Hanging out on Greek beaches, I realized I’m not over all of my old insecurities. I don’t want to walk around in a bikini in Europe, because everyone here is tan and skinny and has a tummy that isn’t covered in weird red bumps. I don’t want to go out drinking, because I’m pretty sure I’d end up by myself in the corner, half-nodding my head along with the techno. But that’s ok. I don’t have to be the kind of person aspiring to someday be cool enough to go to beach parties. I don’t have to do what everyone else appears to be doing to have fun. In the four days I’ve been in Greece, I’ve read three books, re-learned the alphabet and eaten some damn good food. I know I could go out dancing or drinking with friends, but I also know I don’t have to. Mostly, I know it’s ok to feel awkward (particularly in the face of European genetic superiority). And anyway, all those attractive, bronzed young people can suck it, because they probably don’t have a wildly successful blog.
No comments:
Post a Comment