Preface. This is an epiphany that has sprouted/been realized/developed after being away from home and on my own in the real, independent college world this past year. (Note: All the opinions included therein are that of myself as an individual and do not necessarily represent the views of blogger.com, my girl scout troop (if I had one..), or the Walker family at large.)
Chapter One. My life and experience in high school was a breeze and a dream. In all honesty, it was in many ways too good to be true. I got nearly everything I could have ever wanted, when I wanted, and how I wanted. Imagine the perfect boyfriend, the extracurricular activities of choice, a generous home/family life, good girlfriends, impressive grades...you get the point. My life was grand.
Chapter Two. I entered the scene at my university thinking all would fall into place as it did before. I'd soon be discovered and again be one of the very best. I'd get the best grades, receive the best scholarships, make it on the Dean's list, yada yada ya. It didn't take long for some rejection to occur, possibly the very first substantial case of rejection I've ever encountered in my nineteen years of life. I tried to shake it off, but it kept coming. I wasn't the smartest, I wasn't the coolest, I wasn't.....you get the point. Enter the under-confident, submissive, self-conscious inflicting depression that I had up to this point, never seen reflected in the mirror. Further, I no longer knew what I wanted or aspired to do. I had no idea what I wanted my plans to be. How life had changed. The future seemed scary; I'd never felt so lost.
Chapter Three. I watched
Confessions of a Shopaholic. I know what my mother is saying, "Where are you going with this? As it is you definitely did your fair share of damage on your Discover card..." But this isn't the point. I know Rebecca Bloomwood doesn't seem like the best role-model (I mean come on, she believes her destiny is to shop), but if you look behind her compulsive spending habits, you find a little more depth. I respect her. She found a way of morphing her menial talents and interests into a career (I say menial because mine are definitely menial) by finding muse in a green scarf, the whole time never abandoning her original style, even when trying to make her wrongs right. Catching my drift yet?
Chapter Four. I was shopping on anthropologie.com, in the sweater section to be exact. I came across this little number:
I know, it's adorable. I just wish it was a pretty floral color, perhaps a pale yellow. It's spring after all, and I've been cooped up much too long in drab, snow clothes. Yes, a pastel yellow of this sweater would be somewhat of a nirvana to me.....only they don't offer a pastel yellow. For the expense price of $128.00, I only have the option of the blackest of black, or this grainy white. Enter my epiphany.
Chapter Five. All the people and majors and jobs already out there on the market are like this grainy white sweater. They've been done before and taken. The dreamy yellow cardigan I envision, that could be me. A person, career, and future completely different than the rest. An original like Rebecca Bloomwood, "The girl in the Green Scarf." No more wallowing over the golden days of high school, which in all actuality is the borrowed time spent on Rebecca Bloomwood's credit card. This is the new me, in pursuit of my yellow cardigan.
Why not aspire to be something I haven't seen before?
Why would I want to become what someone already is?
From now on I'm going to see things a little different.
I'm going to dream a little different.
In sum, I'm going to be a little different.
I'm going to be my own big-shot.
P.S. My epilogue includes all the posts to follow, documenting the development and pursuit of the "yellow cardigan". I'm excited for my journey. And I hope you are too.
