Life According to Nobody

I get exhausted trying to make small talk to people for hours on end. I really hate it when you sit with someone and they tell you the same story over and over and over again because they'd rather hear the sound of their own voice than some peace and quiet. My boyfriend and I were discussing this the other day and he told me he didn't feel uncomfortable when neither of us were talking. I hadn't realised it up until that point but, looking back on it, I hadn't realised how often we end up sitting in silence. It's not that we have nothing to talk about. We are just able to enjoy each other's company without constantly filling the air with pointless noise.

 I'm used to not taking part in conversations. I keep quiet and listen. Not because I don't have anything to add or because I feel uncomfortable around people. I just don't feel the need to be constantly engaged in conversation. I don't feel uncomfortable sitting quietly with somebody, enjoying their company without having to endure their conversation.

Maybe there's something wrong with the wiring in my brain that causes me to lack the need for communication with others. Maybe the people I spend time with just have too much to say. Either way, I find myself getting wound up by spending long periods of time with some people in my life. I don't blame them, (well I do at the time). It's not necessarily their fault. My family have grown up surrounded by lots of people, being taught that it's polite to make small talk and keep a conversation going.

The whole stigma surrounding "awkward silences" drives me crazy. I believe that there's a great comfort that comes from silence. The people I feel happiest with, I can sit alone with, sharing our thoughts. But most importantly, having thoughts. I struggle to comprehend how people are able to keep conversations going for hours on end. I take time to think things through. I can't come up with immediate responses to the 100 questions that are thrown in my direction during a conversation with my mother.

Don't get me wrong, I can be a grumpy cow. I snap at people when I'm tired or hungry. I'm no model citizen but nothing frustrates me more than somebody trying to spark up  conversation with me when I'm trying to read. I went out to sit alone on the balcony and read my book today. My aunt appeared at the balcony door (they had been out on the balcony on the other side of the house) and asked me why I was sat on my own when they were all out having a chat. I told her I just wanted some peace and quiet to read so she decided to round everyone up and bring them out on to the balcony beside me. Peace shattered.

I think it must be quite frustrating for people who talk all the time to spend time with me. I sit in silence, without even acknowledging people as they come and go. I know it's rude. Small talk is just part of the basic manners that your parents teach you when you're little. Chew with your mouth closed, say please and thank you, never sit in silence.

I'd like to make a request to those of you who spend time with me on a regular basis. Please believe me when I say that I don't intend to be rude. I'm not ignoring you and I'm not in a bad mood. Sometimes I just need some quiet time. I don't hate you, you probably haven't done anything wrong. I dont want you to take offence to this, but I enjoy my company more than yours. There's only one person that I'd be happy to be with 24 hours a day. Just like me, he enjoys the quiet.

When he was here with me, we would float side by side in the pool, each of us reading. Together but not talking. Just being with each other. I never thought I could spend so much time exclusively with one person without them driving me up the wall. I've never enjoyed being around anyone before. I normally endure people until I can find a reason to escape. Things have changed now. Instead of dreaming of getting away from everyone to be alone, I dream of running away to him.

Yesterday marked a momentous day in the lives of many of the people in my life. As an 18 year old, fresh out of school, the last thing we hold on to from our establishments are hopes of good exam results. Some come out happy, surprised by their own efforts. Those of us who are less fortunate, come out disappointed.

Those of you who know me well probably recognize my self determination. I believe it will be my downfall. I often find myself disappointed in my inability to obtain targets I set myself and I'm constantly told that I'm too hard on myself. Essentially I am my own pushy parent. You see those Asian parents, driving their kids into an early grave over academic success or the crazy pageant moms on American TV shows that go mad when their kids give up on something. That's me. For myself.

So, as you can imagine, when it came to my A-levels, I set myself crazy unrealistic goals and pushed myself beyond breaking point to achieve them. Now, when you're at school and you appear to be relatively above average, you find yourself surrounded by those of similar or greater intelligence than yourself. Now, there's a specific competitiveness that goes had in hand with intellect and, as one who strives for a superior intellect, I often find myself engaging in countless wars of wills. 

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the smartest person I know and I can also admit that these people who's knowledge is leagues above my own fill me with envy. It's not that I hate seeing people succeed, it's just that my inner dance-mom comes out and asks me why I can't be the one winning that English prize or gold diploma for the maths competition or why I didn't get picked by the chemistry teacher to participate in the Olympiad.

So flash forward to yesterday morning. 8am (I'm two hours ahead of the UK at the moment) and I'm logging in to get my results. My parents had been telling me over and over again that it didn't matter what I got, they were proud of me and I had tried my hardest. I hadn't really absorbed any of these statements because they just didn't seem to have any effect on me. It didn't matter to me that I had worked the hardest or that I should still be proud of whatever I got. I wanted good grades.

I can't really complain about what I got. The grades are good. Better than average and better than I got last year. But, because I set myself unrealistic goals, I still felt disappointed when that page loaded and the letters weren't what I had hoped for. I had no-one to blame but myself. I couldn't blame bad teaching or lack of effort any more. I had put in a solid shift over the year and the grades I got reflect the grades I should have got.

All except one. Now, I like to think of myself as above average at writing. I wouldn't be writing a blog, pursuing a career in literature and avidly reading any book that's thrown my way if I wasn't. My English grade just didn't seem to reflect my competence and understanding of the texts we studied. All of my teachers had ranked me among the highest achieving in the year group and the quiet whispers of an A* echoed around in conversations with them. Put it this way, there was no A* to be seen come results day.

I'm not petty. There's no point getting upset over it. What's been done has been done and all I can do now is accept the grade. If I can give any advice to those of you out there going through exams and results, it's this:

1. Work damn hard. Nothing's handed to you on a plate. If you want to get something or go somewhere, you have to put in the effort. There's no-one out there to hold your hand and guide you step by step through life.
2. Set realistic goals. Take it from someone who didn't. I'm not saying set no goals, just ones that you can actually achieve. The worst feeling in the world is bitter disappointment in yourself. 
3. Be happy, no matter the results.There's no point dwelling on what could've been. Getting upset about a bad result won't make it any better. Move past it, get on with your life and one day, when you're 80, you'll realise that a C in AS physics actually means fuck all and there really was no point crying at the time.

I do, however, believe in the power of effort. Think of Oprah Winfrey. She was born into an underprivileged community, with little hope of excelling as an African-American woman in the deep south. She worked hard, earning herself a scholarship into Tennessee State University and going on to become the first black American TV correspondent. She didn't get all that from crossing her fingers and hoping real hard. She put in a hard graft and is now worth billions of dollars. That's right. Billions. Now, if you're seeing dollar signs right now, just hold up a second. 

There's no easy way of getting round the hard work. It's not like you can type in to google 'How to become a billionaire without working' and discover some coveted list of steps to earning your riches overnight. Just like all those crazy weight loss schemes you see in magazines, IT'S A SCAM.

Now, I don't want to shit on people's religious beliefs or cultures, but I strongly disagree with relying on these principles to get you what you want. I completely respect those who follow religious codes concerning morality and the such, but when it gets to the point where you're walking around with a severed rabbit's foot around your neck or celebrating when a bird takes a dump on you, I really believe you've taken it too far. 

No-one is 'destined' to do anything. As the daughter of an engineer, I was told I was 'destined' to have a scientific mind. Here I am, applying for degrees in English Literature and laughing in the face of destiny. We're all born equal, the only that that raises us or lowers us in that hierarchy is our own ambition, actions and effort. Don't let others dictate your future to you and never ever take anything for granted.