I Wear My Own Pants, Thank You

 When I graduated high school, I was named co-Salutatorian. I had been working toward being Valedictorian since 9th grade, but with people like the Paul Twins lurking about, Salutatorian was the highest I could get. 

After the pomp and circumstance of graduation, I was shocked by the number of people who expressed shock at me being named that. Literally, people came up to me and said, "I didn't realize you were smart!" 

In my mind, I feel like "nerd" is written all over me, but from feedback, this just isn't the case. 

In college, I dated a guy who demonstrated several red flag behaviors. One was that he appeared almost disgusted by me in heels (which puts me at about 6'1" to his 5'10"). Another was that he was really weird about me being smarter than him. I likely wasn't smarter than him, but he absolutely communicated this idea that he felt personally affronted or personally victimized when I would score higher than him or understand a concept better than him. He was smarter than me 9/10 times, but that tenth time, yikes. 

Specifically, I remember a time when we both wrote a paper for a Bible class. He asked me my subject, I told him, I asked him his, and he told me. His was so high-brow that I literally had no idea what he was writing about. I was writing about biblical spit. He thought it was adorable (read: not intelligent). My professor ADORED my paper. I'm told that he still talks about it in every single New Testament course that he teaches. It burned my (then ex) boyfriend to his core. 

In a conversation about it, he told me that he didn't understand why my prof would like mine so much better than his because mine was "so...so..." [didn't finish his sentence that would have finished in "dumb"]. 

Microaggressions. 

Later in life, I would be told that it was offensive to people when I would use big words or try to explain a concept that I knew a lot about. 

Later in life, I would be told that I was more likeable if I would be quiet and giggle when appropriate. 

Later in life, I would be told that it would be better if the representative could talk to the man of the house because I wouldn't be able to understand. 

I could tell dozens of these stories. 

I'm caught in this dichotomy of perception. Either I am perceived as being too adorable to be intelligent or I'm so intelligent than I am no longer lady-like. That it's an affront to my fellow men. 

I've never heard these types of comments said to my male counterparts. I can imagine that maybe some might say, "Wow! You're smart AND athletic!" or "Wow! You're even smarter than I realized!" But not shock that they were intelligent at all. 

Maybe, "I haven't heard of anyone doing that topic!" or "We went really different routes with our ideas, but yours is really creative!" But not that it wasn't intelligent enough to be considered. 

A man would never be told that he should be quiet and giggle. He'd seem insane. 

A man would never be told not to use smaller words because he was being offensive with his intelligence. 

I listen to the news and I hear outrageous attacks on women in politics, and I also see men in politics saying absolutely bananas things. And then I hear people making heinous comments about, primarily, the women. I can't help but think to myself that if they were men, their "sins" of being outspoken and opinionated would be forgiven and their voices could be heard. 

It happens in classrooms.

in relationships.

in hospitals.

in politics.

We all hear through implicit bias. It's worth questioning that bias before you open your mouth. 

29 is weird

Another year has come and is now gone. And now there are 12 months before I leave my 20s. 

I feel like I just graduated college, and yet, I am an actual, no-doubt-about it-adult. 

This year brought a lot of weird. I rang 2020 in the near year with some good buddies from college!! We played board games and stayed up late. 

My birthday was spent wonderfully with my parents and husband in a neighboring city, just walking around in the fresh air. 

My job was extremely difficult. Living with my parents was awesome. 

One day in March, my boss told us all to take our laptops home just in case. I took it home as a joke. I literally never went back to that office, except to clean it out in July. 

My extremely difficult job got even more difficult, except that I got to sleep more without a commute. 

COVID was a weird combination of the introvert wet dream and an anxious person's worst nightmare. You simultaneously have never been happier in any situation in life, and yet, it's for a horrible reason that plagues you awake and asleep. 

But, of course, we passed through all the COVID phases: anxiety, bread-making, doomsday groceries, Tiger King, and then all the other 15 phases that have now all become one clump of a psychedelic dream. 

During all this, we found and bought a house. It's at the top of a hill a few miles away from my childhood home. It overlooks all of Tulsa and has garden beds for days. It's nice to have some office space, but we also miss nightly games and The Mentalist with my parents. 

Don't worry. We still go over for games every Friday (and also go over any time a small person is there). 

I got accepted for a PhD program, and miraculously, I was offered a Graduate Assistantship position. Even more miraculously, my husband and I were able to figure out a financial plan that allowed me to leave my job and take the job. He had, by that point, started his new full time job working as a therapist. The kids he substitute taught were very sad to see him leave, but COVID happened pretty simultaneously, so the timing literally could not have been better. 

I left my job in July, cleaning out my office like a bandit--the ghost town campus was a really creepy experience. 

My mom and I took a very safe little trip up to Branson at the close of summer--lots of masks, airbnb, lots of distancing. We shopped carefully (we went in the middle of the week and avoided all the crowds), we kayaked, we ate good food. It was very fun. 

I started my PhD in August. I read so many books. It was the best. The people I work for are so kind. They tell me nice things even when I'm just doing what's expected of me in my job. 

We had a college student live with us for a while in November, which was nice. I also got COVID in November, which was stupid. My mom, dad, and brother also got COVID. Luckily, our college student, my husband, and my brother's wife/kids managed not to get it! It took me about 2 months to 100% recover, but I no longer have to take breaks going up the stairs, so that's nice. 

We closed out the year with a trip to Arkansas to see our favorite neighbor and my favorite admissions counselor buddy get married. I did lots of hair and lots of bossing around. It snowed a bunch, so we made snow boots work with wedding attire. We were thrilled to see them happy and together, after a long and international separation. 

Probably other things happened, but 2020 really all smooshes together once my memory hits March. 

Life is weird. I feel guilty enjoying this time when so many are having the worst year of their lives, but I do. The American life was designed for extroverts. I have worked extroverted jobs my entire professional career (which is close to a decade at this point). Now, I get to be home with my husband and just do my dang job without having to be near other people all the stupid time. Do you know how much I save in gasoline and emotional energy? 

Julius and I wake up, have breakfast together, read books or play outside, then do our jobs/school until it's well dark. The nights finish out with games/puzzles/cooking shows. My dog follows me around every second of that routine. Then we all go to bed. Rinse and repeat. I will miss this period of my life terribly when it ends. Cubby will miss it more.