On Saying 'Yes'
A short, middle-of-the-work-day reflection about saying yes to every invitation, being creative, and carving your own path.
For as long as I can remember, I have been classifying myself as a “wallflower” — “someone with an introverted or shy personality type who will attend parties and social gatherings, but will usually distance themselves from the crowd and actively avoid being in the limelight” (thanks, Wikipedia). At around 95% of every social interaction I’ve been a part of within every social setting or academic institution I have ever attended, I have been the beautiful yet faintly wilting yellow dandelion growing through the cracks of gymnasium or linoleum walls, while the other daisies, roses, tulips, and chrysanthemums bloom and twirl in the middle of the dance floor. My experience has been colored by that label for almost my entire life, and it isn’t until very recently that I realized — such a label was not my own, yet I’ve been owning it for as long as I can remember.
I grew up in a household that prioritized goodness, stability, and a peculiar combination of standing out while making one’s self as small and unassuming as humanly possible. My mother took every opportunity to tell me how shallow, loud, boisterous, and attention-seeking the girls in my classes were. She believed that all-girls private schools filled to the brim with wealth that bordered on an out-of-touch mentality, tales of traipsing around Aspen during Spring Break, and entitlement were the perfect place for me to learn about building a strong work ethic and moral character, yet she did not anticipate any of that level of baggage. The girls I went to school with made it known that they were — or, rather, that they believed themselves to be — the biggest, brightest, shiniest thing in the room, and everyone around them believed it, though it sometimes turned out to not actually be true. Teachers, other students, and boys from our brother school(s) all believed the “hype” as well — although I realize that the usage of the word “hype” complies falsehood and deceit.
A truth which I’ve come to realize the validity of is that we — as well as the world around us — are only as true and real or possessing of certain qualities to the extent that we believe ourselves to be. I was told by my family (namely my mother) to condemn and judge these girls for their gravitation toward the spotlight instead of the dim, shadowy walls; I was told that they were “common”, “attention-seeking”, and that they would all “peak in high school” for daring to act like a two-bit trollop (i.e., going to parties occasionally, having dates to school dances that weren’t boys from church, and sporadically kissing boys at said dances or parties). When you’re a young girl barely growing into a woman, your mother is your world whether you like it or not. She is your God before you know what God is. You believe everything she says, and so it is. You believe these girls are cute but going nowhere fast, so they are, and you believe that you are the opposite and that “your time is coming”…but then, everything is upended. How were these girls, who were focusing on “all the wrong things” according to my mother, getting into the same elite colleges and academic programs that I was also being accepted into? How were those same “common” girls who would likely be "full of regrets” also getting on the Dean’s List every semester, while simultaneously having a social life that was so much more complex and colorful than mine ever was? And most significantly to my life, how were the girls I was told were “common” and “used up” finding success in the parts of life (interpersonal and intimate relationships of any kind) that have always seemed elusive to me, even though I was told that my goodness would automatically reward me with them? A final angry query as I griped with the universe: could I come to grips with the fact that many things I was taught about life and existing in this world as a young woman were out of touch anecdotes at best, and outright lies designed to keep me entrapped at worse?
To answer the last question, and to restate my introduction above, it’s not until very recently that I realized a grave declaration about the first twenty-something years of my life — I was not any better off than these girls who I simultaneously deified and deeply envied for continually saying “no” to every aspect of life that didn’t revolve around a book or a report card. I was not acting under virtue by essentially silently proclaiming to the world how “good” I was and how I was “not like the other girls”; rather, my downfall was and continues to be my perpetual fear and rejection of life, as well as my silence itself. Remember; we are as we believe ourselves and the world to be. I was told for so long that I was “not like these other girls”, and I believed it; I also came to believe that these other girls not only were inherently better than me, but that they made better choices than me, and that I, therefore, would never be able to catch up to their successes in certain areas of life which I had barely even started. All of this became hardened, stone fact, and I have only just now been able to reestablish the reputation of myself in my own mind, regardless of the forces negating that (namely, the perpetual seeds of doubt sown into my subconscious by my mother).
It’s crazy — the people around you who are hell-bent on denying you these freedoms can create and subsequently plant a foreign story in your own mind before you’ve even had the chance to pick up the pen to write it yourself. My mother knows that I’ve always been a wallflower and laments it, mainly because that has never been her experience (I know that sometimes she wonders if I’d been switched at birth with a more lively, extroverted baby that better matches her personality), yet she actively discourages the proverbial exit from my stiff cocoon at every opportunity. She’ll discourage me from going to or throwing parties because it’s too expensive, too far away, too unsafe. She’ll silently judge me for wanting to make myself known in social settings, because I should “let people come to me”. And she’ll beg me to not do anything that makes me seem like the “weird black girl” in a space (that means that fantasy fiction and alternative music are off-limits topics). Any and everything is the answer “no”, sometimes before the question itself has even been stated.
All this to say…something I am prioritizing this summer and beyond, especially as I embark on my graduate studies this upcoming fall, is saying yes. Yes to not only every invitation (all of a sudden, I’ve found my calendar full of writing retreats, book club gatherings, and networking events catered toward my city’s legal community), but also yes to my own inner voice even if it negates that of those whom I love and whose opinions I care about. Almost every single time I have countered my mother’s wallflower-esque advice about being “mysterious” by being somewhat assertive in a social situation, I have found some semblance of success and have even found myself in situations that I would never dream of for myself (nerdy, theater kid Ann in high school would laugh in your face if you told her that, a few years later, she’d be making out with a studly student athlete fresh on the heels of some nondescript house party in college). And notice how I said almost every time — sometimes rejection happens, but the sting of unrealized opportunities, forgotten potential, and lost chances always hurt worse.
I’ve also been saying yes to every single creative pursuit I wish to attack — I’ve been more active on this Substack this summer than I ever was upon its conception. I also carry a notebook with me at all times, jotting down musings, ideas, and reflections that I quickly convert into song verses, poetry stanzas, and blocks of prose to include in my stories, novelistic and short alike. Another unfortunate truth which I have reluctantly accepted with full belief and validity is that when you are in your element, great things tend to happen — including the [often] seamless and unintentional attraction of intense, romantic, and sensual polarity. Every single time I wake up and tell myself, “Ann, it’s going to be a good day,” somehow, people are just more open to my energy, and I am in turn more open to the energy and the beauty of the world around me.
I’ve touched on this earlier, but this radical act of saying “yes” often means saying “no” — and ultimately, “goodbye” — to the toxic repression of your family life and their restrictive ideals, as well as the past in general. Growing new flowers requires the tilling of the earth, the removal of brown and brittle death. It is bittersweet to me that all of my greatest triumphs, big and small, are completely removed from everything my mother has taught me about how she conceptualizes and lives in the world. But that’s just the thing, though — it’s her conceptualization, her view, her way of living in the world. And I am just now starting to find mine.
P.S.: if you’ve made it this far, give me some coming-of-age TV shows I can binge. I’m currently toying with Derry Girls and Girlfriends, but I want some others on the roster. There’s nothing more relatable and inspiring than the everyday trials and tribulations of young women trying to live through something.
Beautiful and intimate. Mother is sometimes, unknowingly, the witch who keeps you in the tower. The Prince (symbol for Life as opposed to her movement towards Death) is her greatest enemy.
I greatly enjoyed this. Yes to saying "yes" whenever possible. A couple of comments:
Don't worry so much about what you might've missed out on. You're just getting started, loads of time for so much to come, and believe some of the life lessons that the precoc must learn are quite painful and consequential.
Also, try to retain your creative side in law school. You'll be experiencing forced immersion in the ultra-analytical side of things, but later you'll be better off if you still access these other modes of thought.