Gifted and Talented
10yo. I'm in a gifted and talented junior high school program. Our motto is "As and Bs because I try." The 5th floor of the 5-story school building is dedicated exclusively to us until we graduate. We are better than the "downstairs" kids, we're different and so we are kept seperate. The reminders are in every teacher/student interaction. We are praised, celebrated and validated for being smarter (better) than the others. There are endless award ceremonies because getting As was not enough, you also had to also find a way to get awareded throughout the year. The message is ubiquitous - perform at your highest level or you'll be sent to the lower-level classrooms. At an age when my body is changing, my understanding of womanhood is starting to take shape and I’m searching for my identity…I’m repeatedly told that I’m different and special because of my performance. I’m told that at all times I must maintain perfect grades and excellent behavior. Get awarded or get demoted. Before every test, I dig my nails into my gums until they bleed. I remain on top.
21yo. I'm in a journalism graduate program. I’m one of 40 students selected. The assignments are pass/fail. What do you mean I merely passed? (Clutches chest). Am I doing better than anyone? There must be something else you can tell me, some letter you can assign to me. There are no grades, there is no praise, no constant validation. The deadlines are endless and the feedback is limited. It's excruciating. For months, I compare myself to every student who submits before the deadline. I watch others as they type so quickly, so confidently. I’m paralyzed. Imposter Syndrome eats at me for months until I'm shaking uncontrollably in my parent’s bedroom. I am not capable. I drop out.
28yo. I'm in a burlesque class. It’s my first time taking a dance class. Because, obviously, at the tender age of 28 I'm destined to be a seductive dancer. Opening night for our first group show is just a week away. We practice and practice. 5,6,7,8. We dip. We twirl. We remove silky black gloves in one swoop. The show is a few days out. Line-up selections begin and I'm not selected front row. My vision blurs and the floor feels distant from me. I am not perfect. I drop out.
30yo. I’m in therapy. “Vanessa, you have what we call generalized anxiety. You are so worried about getting it right. Your critical voice is constant like a small drop of water from a leaky faucet.”
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I've lived many years of my short life aiming for perfection and needing the subsequent validation that was drilled into me during my formative years. I live in search of an idyllic feeling, wanting to “win” so badly that I often choose not to try. I dream of elusive moments of success by accomplishment. The final destination where I followed all the right steps, dodged all the challenges, and mastered every stage. I aced this.
When a child is compared to their peers based on how they learn, when they are constantly praised for excellent grades and perfectionism, it bleeds into the internalized message about their identity. It creates a false badge of honor and uniqueness that the real world will slowly rip apart. When you enter the workforce your self-worth is rocked. You compare yourself to others because you’re seeking the thing that made you so different and special. You find yourself questioning where that really smart, gifted and talented, perfectly behaved little girl went. You start to realize that there are other ways to be intelligent and skilled. That there are all different types of gifted and talented people, and that we all learn at different paces. Suddenly, the foundation that formed your sense of self feels unstable and untrustworthy. You spend your energy figuring out how to be “on top” again, how to be perfect at everything. You spend your time finding ways to soothe yourself without external validation. You feel burnt out and left behind because the world doesn’t revolve around praise for performance.
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From the other side. Listen up, Kid. There are no blueprints. There are no grades. There are no diplomas. Your course is different from hers and his. No two paths are the same so please do not look over your shoulder. There are no teachers, friends, or lovers who can teach you exactly how to navigate this. Some parts are going to be hard and you will feel like you are failing. Uncomfortable feelings are part of the course. Like the change of weather, you'll get used to them. All you have to do is show up… every day. We'll let you know when it ends. Be easy on yourself.
Streaming
How to Change Your Mind - a Netflix docuseries exploring the history and uses of psychedelics, including LSD, psilocybin, MDMA and mescaline. I’m in search of psychedelic assisted therapy so hit me if you can help.
The Girl In The Picture - A documentary of a twisted, terrible young life. A woman found dying by a road leaves behind a son, a man claiming to be her husband — and a mystery that unfolds like a nightmare.
Reading
Scenes from an Open Marriage - *not the same as the show* A first person account from a women whose husband asks for an open marriage 6-months after their daughter is born. Finally I asked my husband, “Which scenario endangers us more: you sleeping with other women, or you not sleeping with other women?” I told him to think about it, assess, and render a verdict; I would do whatever gave us the best chance. Humorous and oddly relatable.
There I Almost Am - on envy and twinship. In America, “How are you different?” and “How are you special?” are the same question. We must all be equal, but also different and special…Sometimes a new acquaintance (usually a man) will stand there looking back and forth between us, and then say, “Yes, I see the difference.” And because I’m vain and frightened I always want to ask, “What is it? What is the difference?”
❤️❤️❤️❤️