The Things I Keep Forgetting to Remember

collegeexpectationsfriendshipmotivationperfectionselfwriting

Aug 31

Written By

For Us.

Milk (I don’t drink milk.)
Bread (I tell myself I don’t eat bread Mondays-Fridays.)
Toilet paper (Where does it go?)
Stop using the word “thing(s)” in blog post titles (Writing 101, Ashley.)

Of course, there are more substantial things on this list, but every time I have a moment of remembering the important ones, I flip to the back of a random work notebook and scribble down that Something Substantial but then decide to rip it out. I can’t possibly deal with the weight of this brick of a page right now. Then, what to do with a loose piece of paper inked with a bleeding heart? So I fold it back up and stick it back in the notebook filled with to-do lists (things I never feel much like to-doing), praying it will nevereverever find the eyes of a stranger. Or worse, someone who knows my middle name.As a result of writing this instead of to-doing, a little voice in my head whispers that I am a failure. (This is bigger than the use of the “I’m” contraction.) I’ve been learning the power of “I am” statements, so I self-correct this gnat in my head and try to swat it away. I might be failing, but I am not a failure.I failed one class at my liberal arts college. It was about trees. The honors science class was so complex for my wandering literary brain that I can’t even remember the actual title of the course. All I know is it was the first time I saw an F on a quiz, or anything for that matter. I remember trying to figure out how to cheat, but I didn’t even know how to do that. The prof asked me to stay after and advised that I drop the course, even though it would stamp a big wide W on my transcript because I had missed the deadline to drop without penalty.Surely, that gnat came around that day to buzz that I was a failure. Because anyone who fails a class about trees will never amount to anything in this green world.And so it goes, life went on with that W. I graduated with honors, still. I got a job, and another, and another. (I won’t bore you with the details.) But, I will say, I am very envious of friends with clear and concrete career paths. Us English majors have a rough road, with all these bosses ganging up together, wanting data-driven results over beautiful words that change lives. We live in a world that keeps forgetting to remember the power of words.I have a best friend who has her PhD in biostatistics. (I feel confident I’m botching the actual degree title.) To me, it doesn’t get much clearer than that. Yes, I do realize that it is a lie to believe that 1 +2 = 3, and that every biostatistician stays perfectly content in the 3-world forever. But right now, it sounds like a glamorous life to me, as I’m off in the corner nursing my wounds as the poor soul who fell in love with words.Let me tell you a story about worth, because that’s what I set out to do here. Because one of the Something Substantials that I keep forgetting to remember is that I am worth fighting for. I have written it on mirrors in bathrooms. I have written essays about having written it on mirrors in bathrooms. And yet, it vanishes. Nowhere to be found.So, this tree class, the one that I failed. Well, it’s nothing like the failure of a relationship. Or, is it everything like it? Recently, I withdrew from a relationship beyond the deadline to drop it without penalty. Maybe someone advised me too late, or maybe not. Turns out I have a stubborn soul. (See how I ditched the “I am…” On a Baby Bird Learning to Fly, I suppose.)And, good news, life is still going on, even with that W. Especially with. It gives me more to scribble about, more to forget, more to remember.Can I help you remember the same today?

You are not a failure.
You are worth fighting for.
You can use the word “thing(s)” as many times as your heart desires, even when you forget to remember to pull out that thing called a thesaurus filled with all the powerful words up for grabs in our green world.