Acceptable Envy

Me being overly introspective. No one is surprised.

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Preteens are hilarious. One of my nieces is in middle school, and she keeps informing my sister-in-law that she doesn't know her at all. She's a rock and roll girl, so she needs an AC/DC t-shirt. She's super into football, doesn't her mom know that? The oversized jersey my brother-in-law just handed her is perfect. Don't you know she's country? Come on, Mom. Don't you know? She's got the western boots, too.

I think I remember going through phases like that. I think a lot of people do at that age. She's trying on different personas to identify what fits and who she is, while not fully realizing yet that all of those things can be true about her. Multifaceted isn't really a thing tweens and teens are ready for.

I remember once attending a writing conference and hearing a presenter break down the differences in the age categories in books and movies. With children, their worlds are small, so their problems usually revolve around their families. Parents or family members are usually in danger and need saving (Spy Kids). With teens, it expands outwards as teenagers themselves start to branch outside the family unit and form more of their identity with their peers, so naturally that is what is threatened next (Katniss taking care of Peta). At the heart of a lot of those stories are a fight for them to save their friends or fight for their own survival. It's not until adult novels where the self or others start to face more complex or nuanced threats. Of course, there are a lot of exceptions for these, but as I understand, this is usually what determines how editors figure out what section of the store to shelve them. Example: Ender's Game is about a little boy, but it's not sold in the children's section.

Similarly to books, my niece is trying to figure out where she fits in because she hasn't developed to the point of understanding the nuances to her own identity. When she was young, her parents told her who she was. As she becomes a teen, her community and peers will help shape that, and she'll look to them for guidance to decide if they are right—or reject it. Right now, she's focused on the external, but as she ages, she's going to start to question what she contributes socially. Her testing different types of humor and testing social boundaries is a part of that. She's getting feedback from those around her and she's figuring it out. But when she enters her early to mid-twenties, she's going to start to tell herself who she is. I went through that.

Our high school, like most, allowed students to substitute other acceptable activities in place of P.E. Before my freshman year began, I'd tried to convince my parents to let me take horse riding lessons as a substitute for it, but for that to happen I'd have to take considerably more lessons than they had me signed up for. It was simply too expensive.

I wasn't in any sports, like my younger brother with football, so there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of me trying out to make the volleyball, basketball, soccer, or softball teams. I also had a strong dislike for running, and I'm a poor swimmer. My options were very limited. Am I outdoorsy? Yes. Sporty? Not really. My parents had tried when I was younger, but I'd shown little interest in just about every sport. By the first week of school, I'd accepted my fate. I was stuck in P.E. for the next two years to meet the requirement.

And then both the boys and girls class were called into the gym for a presentation from the wrestling coach. I saw my escape.

High School Jess

Texas was one of the few states that had a female division for the sport at the time. It was evident he wasn't really trying to get girls to join the team, but he had several of us interested anyway. For me, the best part of his presentation was I'd automatically make the team because he was literally building from scratch (in fact, I think that was the first year they ended the season with any girls still on it). It would get me out of P.E. for the next two years, and I was sold after that fact alone. If I hated it, I could always quit. It also occurred to me that my parents might not let me do it. I went home convinced I'd be told no and mentally prepared for battle.

I'd gone home and the first thing I did was drop my backpack down, turn to my mom, and informed her I was joining whether she and dad approved or not. I remember being uncharacteristically combative when I said it. I was very convinced I'd be told absolutely not. But if my memory is correct, my mom was both taken aback and confused, before finally saying 'okay.' She may have been slightly amused as well. Both of them made sure I wouldn't be wrestling boys in practice or competition, and then said I could do it. lol. I never competed against boys, but before the end of the year everyone gave up and let the handful of us girls who joined practice with them.

It turns out I am fairly athletic. I quickly fell in love with the sport and competed for all four years of high school. I was pretty good and set several records that I don't think anyone broke for several years after I graduated. I enjoyed the challenges it brought, its skill, and technicality. The conditioning for it was intense both on the mat, running around the track, or lifting in the weight room. I liked the independent nature of wrestling even though I was technically on a team. On the mat none of them could help me, other than yell suggestions. Whether I won or lost was entirely up to me. It turns out I'm not a team sports person, but that's okay.

I still struggled with it though. The other girls on the team wanted to show up to meets in matching clothes, while I bristled at the idea. I could not understand the appeal of us all looking the same for the fun of it. When we, as the girl's team, didn't win the meets, but several of us had won our individual weight classes, I struggled to feel the disappointment some of them openly felt. I felt bad because I didn't care and felt like I should have, but you can't force to feel an emotion. I am not a team sport person. I struggle to relate to the group as a whole. Individuals? Yes, I can sit and do my best to listen and understand people and can empathize and feel connection with those in my life, but rooting for a team? I struggle to invest a lot of energy into that. It's something I wish I could change about myself. It looks like fun. I can see the appeal. I'd happily welcome more fun in my life. But I just don't feel it with big groups or team centered sports.

I really like history and psychology, and one area in particular I've recently learned about is the study of anthropological psychology, seemingly combining the two. It's a fascinating field that I'm still learning more about, but one thing that I see keep coming up again and again is how the differences in people helped build to a stronger society or helped populations survive. (More fascinating is the reasons our emotional responses evolved and the behaviors that are influenced by them.) One theory I'd listened to was why early birds and night owls both exist and that they've found that people's brains are wired one way or the other. Part of why this exists was potentially for safety. Having people who could stay awake later than others allowed them to stand guard better against potential threats and potentially rotate in shifts while other people slept. The differences evolved for a reason, even if it doesn't make complete sense for most of modern society.

Me not being a team sport person falls in line with much of my personality, but it also fits into the larger part of society as well—much like early birds or night owls. There's benefits to having those who love working as a team for a common goal. Conforming to a group translates to usually trusting and relying on them to be there for you. Conforming increases the chance of survival whether literal or metaphorical (war or having having someone to sit with at lunch). But there's also a need for those who are motivated by other means and work independently, and those people have been beneficial in their nonconformities too. The problem is figuring out that this is okay, and it took me a while.

I work well in small groups, or by myself. I've often wished I was wired differently or felt like I belonged better. I see a lot of value in others, especially when they have the ability to work well as a team or support one. People often form deep friendships there, and it gives them something to bond over and celebrate. I logically understand dressing the same can make people feel a part of something larger than themselves or apart of the victories of their team. I see how those are good things, but it's sometimes hard to see what I can offer to others when I don't share what seems to be deeply valued by the whole.

But over time I've learned I can provide insight that others might not notice, or see things from a different angle. I understand why someone might not see me as loyal if I flaked on group plans, but when they needed help, they were surprised I showed up when very few others did. I don't feel deep loyalties to group identities, but I absolutely do to the individual members of them. I've learned about myself those are important even if they're not immediately seen or appreciated right away. And I'm okay with that too. I get how that can appear paradoxical when to me, it's not.

My sister is my opposite in many ways, but also someone I consider to be incredibly close to. I enjoy how different people's personalities can be. I'm more on the serious side, and I often worry I'm too intense for some people. I remember at one of my jobs my manager criticized me for reading a book away from everyone while I ate my lunch, rather than join the team and chat. He'd also later said I needed to be friendlier, like the woman he'd just interviewed. He continued to point out aspects of her personality he liked and suggested I be more like that. He had a firm idea on what he wanted me to be like, and I was not measuring up, that much was very clear. He would have loved my sister though. Most people do. I'm also biased.

Ember is bubbly. She's quick to smile and is unafraid to affectionately tease everyone while she herself laughs as she does it. Boys crushed on her a lot and it was not unusual in college for them to come ask me about her. She's outgoing, nurturing, and incredibly approachable. She ended up marrying her best friend from high school, who she never dated until he got back from his mission and they started hanging out again.

She has a lot of positive qualities I wish I had. Ember is pretty socially aware, while I can sometimes struggle to read the room (though I normally realize where I tripped up later on). She's unafraid of social situations and does well with small talk and making people feel at ease around her. I wish I was more like that, too. The good news is I can improve and develop communication skills. Books like "Supercommunicators," by Charles Duhigg have helped shine light on better connecting with others (I'm not even close to done with it, but so far I find it pretty insightful and interesting). I might not be bubbly, but I'm not unfriendly either, and I'm fine with that. I'm fairly happy and in a good mood most of the time, I just don't shine with it like some people do.

On the flip side, I do think a social strength I have is I feel like I give a lot of grace. I overanalyze, it's what I do. But because of that, I'm usually pretty understanding and can see how or why people might feel or react in the way that they do, even if I'd react or do things differently myself. People's needs are different, and I definitely get that as well. One size does not fit all, and I try to make allowance for others. Nothing happens in a vacuum, including poor choices (or good ones, for that matter). There's always explanations, and if I wait (or think about it long and hard enough), I will usually find one. I am good at that.

But one thing my sister and I both tend to have in common is we're not big on confrontation. I'd argue she does a better job of it than I do, but it's a struggle for both of us if for different reasons. Jack is also much better at it than I am, and two of my friends are incredibly direct people who are completely unafraid to call you on your bullshit. I admire that. I'm not a pushover and I don't usually have a problem telling people no to something. But I do avoid telling someone I'm upset with them to my own detriment. I know why I do it, but that doesn't fix the problem, it just makes me more aware why it exists. If I think something will be received poorly, I generally decide it's not worth it. The only exception is when someone won't leave something alone and I feel backed into a corner. That normally doesn't end well, and it doesn't usually go the way the more combative person expects. I can bite, but I normally give several warnings to leave it alone before doing so. But I'm working on it. Slowly, I'm making progress at the whole assertiveness thing.

But while I'm not confrontational, I do take criticism fairly well. I usually don't get defensive or angry. Once something I did that hurt someone's feelings is pointed out, or I'm told how I failed in some way, I'm normally horrified and quick to apologize. But piping up when it's someone else? It's a weak spot.

It wouldn't be good if everyone was confrontational though. I think there's a lot to learn from those who are, while also recognizing the quiet strength those who strive for harmony and keeping the peace bring. Both aren't good when taken to the extreme. I'm a big believer of impact mattering more than intent. It doesn't matter if I kept my mouth shut helped keep someone happy if the impact is a building anger on my side. Nor does it help to confront someone, despite being asked to give them space, until they are driven away. There's a balance in adopting communication skills that help bridge the gap between the two. Some people don't have a problem and are great at interpersonal problems and address them, and to those people, I wish I was more like you, too.

I don't subscribe to the idea that emotions are somewhere on a moral scale. Envy isn't always bad. I heard something today that I loved. I was told our emotions are our mentors in a way. They let us know what is going on deeper within us. Anger can be a sign of self-protection, and when I think about envy, I think it's a sign of something I know I lack. I think if I can figure out what that is, then there's room for potential growth whether that growth is developing a weakness into a strength or learning to appreciate my own differences and those of others. Either way, I think there's something to take from it.

Ultimately, I do have my own strengths that I can offer others, and I can acknowledge my own gratitude for them while working on improving parts of myself that fall short in other areas. I feel like how I define myself, and how others might understand me, is a constantly evolving process. New experiences bring new insights. I know a lot about myself, but recognizing how to improve when opportunities for learning happen is also a part of life. As my niece gets older and moves through her preteens, teens, and twenties, she'll start to identify aspects of herself that are innately a part of her, but also what she lacks. And I hope she learns that's okay. Other's have those skills, and we need a variety of types to help us survive through life, whether literal or metaphorical.