I Can Has Personal Growth?

Apparently, I can has it.

I has it.

This evening, I spoke with my dearest and one of my oldest friends. We don't talk as much as we should, because we have ridiculous schedules and distances that keep us apart. It feels like we live on different planets -- more, though, as if she moved to a distant planet where everything is green and bites and insects are gargantuan. From time and time, she comes climbs into the mothership and comes on home.

Anyway, this evening, we were talking on the phone, just before I got a frantic request to edit someone's work for a deadline. Prior to the frantic call, however, we were talking about the poetry reading I attended earlier this week. I told her that I got up there and read, fairly confidently. Not "I'm an amazing poet," but "I'm nervous but I'm going to read anyway."

After I told her about the reading, she commented, "Wow. I am so impressed. Your personal growth over the years is amazing."

She and I attended high school, and some college, together. In college, we were more or less connected at the hip, and ate most meals together. At our school, at some meals, there was a weird karaoke thing, which I don't actually remember. There was also this guy who sang songs and "happy birthday" to students when appropriate. I'm getting away from the point.

She and I got up there and sang a song that was fairly popular at the time. At the chorus, which was fairly difficult to sing anyway, I apparently edged myself behind her, and just cowered there, too afraid to go on. I couldn't go on. I was too nervous, apparently. When she finished the story, I explained that I've just always been afraid of rejection. It's what has kept me from sending work out, from applying for jobs I really wanted, and, sadly, it has even kept me from stating my opinion in inane, harmless conversations with people I know, and even with people I don't. I didn't want to be rejected. It just hurt too much.

When I temporarily left college (for three years!), I got a job at a bookstore in Cambridge. Because I speak relatively clearly, and I have a "polite" voice, I was tapped to do all the store's announcements. Whenever there was a major sale, for instance, I had to announce over the loudspeaker the details of the deal. If there was event -- the same. It was a crash course in public speaking, and I was constantly given positive feedback for my lovely announcements -- from the manager, from customers, from co-workers.

The other thing that happens when you work in retail - it has to happen so you can survive christmas -- is that you learn to walk around like you own the place. Even when I go to stores where the employees clearly have a uniform, I am regularly approached because people assume I work there.

Anyway, my friend makes an excellent point. When we were eighteen or nineteen, even though I was writing poetry like crazy, I would have never gotten up to read it to an audience. Never, ever. In fact, even after my retail experience, I was still very timid; I didn't pursue the creative writing program at my college because I was too afraid of rejection -- by the faculty, the program director, the students. It didn't matter.

However, I got more jobs where I excelled. I was told I excelled. But I was often left without any other feedback, or direction, and if I screwed up, all hell broke loose.

Then I got the job I have now. Just getting that job made me feel as though I accomplished something great. It's a young writer's dream job, more or less. I write and edit articles all day. I work on interesting projects. I get to standardize the processes and set the editorial and style standards. I get to learn. I get clear goals. I am challenged. I am rewarded when I meet the goals, and I am told when improvements are required. My boss told me at my review that writing was my strength. That made me feel a lot better.

Additionally, I made new friends at work, and further developed a relationship with a former co-worker. They gave positive feedback on my creative writing efforts. I get positive, but honest feedback from my pre-existing friends, including the one I didn't quite sing with. They tell me what works and what doesn't. The fact that they give me honest feedback, and that good always comes with the bad, validates me as a writer.

This is what led me to read. The support of my old friends, the support of new friends and working in an environment where I am challenged and rewarded by my work. Ultimately, however, my two closest friends -- including the one with whom I spoke this evening -- helped me get to this point.

I got up, and I read. It went well. I feel validated, and I never could have done it if I didn't have my dear, dear friend egging me on to get up and sing to the world. I couldn't have done it without my other friend telling me she wanted to create a visual representation of my words. I couldn't have done anything without them. I couldn't have done anything without my fiance, who gives me unconditional support, love, and encouragement.

I certainly wouldn't be feeling validated. I cannot credit personal growth to experiences alone; I have to credit the people who grew with me: thanks guys.