Day 1 (Isn’t it always?):
Awkward girl. That’s me. Welcome to my world.
You know, the thing about life, is that it is confusing. It is excruciatingly complex. Why does no one tell us this when we are young? I often wonder about that. We all figure it out eventually. We grow up and think: What in the ever living fuck is happening? And yet, here we are, remaining baffled and, well…awkward. Someone please. Help me understand.
All the thoughts. So, I must admit that I have always thought a lot. Ok, that is a blatant lie–I have thought more thoughts than all the humans that thought things in the past. I am telling you sincerely, and I oblige that you accept it as a factual and integral part of what makes me who I am. Me? I just want to be perceived as the person that I think I am. But I’ve concluded that this may be an impossible feat because I am ALWAYS inside myself. Do you understand that feeling? My head has all the thoughts, all the time. And so I just keep thinking: How do people perceive me? How do I go through all the days and not be a douche?
I am offended by douchbaggery. My religion really…
Refocus. This is the thing…I’ll give a person my everything if they are worth it, if you are just unapologetically you. Because I know what it feels like to be misunderstood. I struggle with believing anyone really understands me, so I want to be the one that understands others. I want the people I care most about to know that I truly get them. I will myself to be more positive and curious and considerate, sort of like a five year old who loves life, because life is something to wholeheartedly love. Conclusion? I want everyone to not be the awful that we all cringe about in our sweat-drenched nightmares.
Interacting with all the humans. Here are some of the things that leave me dazed and perplexed, scratching my head, eyes to the sky: When someone starts drama just to feel validated, I get confused. No one needs that beef. If I say good morning to someone and they don’t say it back, I think, What did I do wrong? Did I do something wrong? Or, for instance, if I’m out with a group of people (which is perpetually tricky anyway) and they start rehashing a hilarious interaction or inside joke or dramatic event that I know zero about. What do I do now? Do I laugh? Insert an awkward comment? Do I stare at the floor? Smile intensely and hope no one notices my inability to smoothly function in a group setting? Or, let’s say, if someone doesn’t respond to an email or text or call, I get agonizingly confused. Do I contact them again? Do I wait? How long?
Stop and think. Maybe there is a better option. Maybe we can all just try to be real. Maybe we can tell others what’s actually going on, or even say something like: I need a minute to get my shit together because life is hard. Something like that, so we are not left wondering. I’ve realized so many people are scared to be real. Did you ever notice that? People tend to be freaked out when someone is real. This is a whole existential crisis that is at the core of all the awkwardness.
Why? Because life is freaky. Like is so fucking freaky. Let’s agree to accept that and just live.
My nemesis: How can I know all of this and still struggle with losing keys and opening mail and changing light bulbs and drinking the correct amount of water in a 24-hour period and moisturizing my face and making sure one single plant survives longer than a week, and, all at the same time, have Disney songs belting in my head constantly? How can I be so perceptive and yet so unsure of the simple things, like how to meet a new person or make small talk on an elevator or say what I need to say to the people that matter most?
How can I live my own advice and conquer my biggest flaws?
These are the things that keep me up at night. These are the things that make me, me. This is Awkward Girl.
Concept + Artwork By: Erica Lescota – @phoenix_designs37
Concept Development + Text By: Lanaya Alexander – @writing.for.the.calm
Note: This is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, events, and places are results of the artist and author’s imagination. Anything that resembles actual places, people, or events is entirely coincidental.