"I've never heard of anyone whose parents will be mad if they get into Oxford," Saamir tells me as I explain my elaborate ruse, "it's the best school in the world."
"They're just weird," I say, shrugging it off, "that's my family."
The truth is that my parents have every right to be angry. I not only lied to them about my trip to England but in my naive and self centered way didn't tell them about any of my law school applications, choosing to believe instead that my life doesn't affect anybody elses.
I talk about it as if it's all one big adventure, a big prank I'm playing on my parents. But that's because if it's not an adventure then really, it's just sad. There is nothing adventurous about interviewing with some of the leading scholars of law and not being able to tell your parents about it.
* * *
I've been spending a lot of time praying and going to church recently. Of course I prayed that I would get the chance to head to interviews, for the strength to get through them, and to be accepted, but mostly I've been praying that I can remember and be careful not to attach my self-worth to the results.
* * *
About a month ago I participated in a role play competition at school. Apparently I did a rather good job of playing a bad mother because I received an award for it. I sent the video to my parents, my dad's only response was, "maybe that's because you've had so much practise being a bad daughter." The nightmares returned.
My nightmares are always the same basic plot and chatacters but in a different context. They've been rare since I left Canada but every once in a while I still wake up kicking and screaming, trying not to hear my dad say, "you're stupid, you're worthless."
It was exactly these words that I woke up from hearing moments before I found out that I'd gotten an interview at Oxford. After a brief moment of stunned tears I almost instantly set about informing everyone. First was Michael. Partly because he'd been asking, partly because knowing him reminded me of dreams I used to have. Then it was Deanna, because she'd had to listen to detailed analysis of my application for several nights in a row. And then it was Bert, because he's the one person who always tells me he's proud of me, no matter what. There were then a few more people, friends, teachers, current law students, people on whom I could rely on for encouragement, not judgement. Not my parents.
* * *
When you have social anxiety you learn to think of fear as your enemy, the one thing you need to learn to fight. Fear though can be positive and useful, often reminding us to tread carefully and avoid danger. It's only too much fear that is bad. When you're shy though, that distinction can be very difficult to make. The same applies to self doubt. You're always having to fight so hard for a shred of confidence that sometimes you fight a little too hard.
These are the kind of extremes that make you move to Korea and dismiss Eton students as just 17 year old kids. When you have those fighting moments.
Truthfully I am extremely intimated by private school students. Not because they're smart - they're often not - not because of their pedigree - they often come from families like mine - but because of their knowledge and their opportunities. Perhaps I too could have understood Othello just as well or better than they, but I never read it. Perhaps I too could have taken AP English, CTY courses, and gone to Harvard Summer School but these didn't exist in my world. Because in my world the one university evening course I took generated amazement amongst teachers. Because in my world I feel inferior to them in every way.
Let's be honest though, I feel inferior to pretty much everyone.
* * *
Random Notes that were to go somewhere in this post:
Sometimes it makes me sad that I have to pray to be reminded that I'm not worthless. The shyness is a handicap I'll never rid myself of. Imagine how much I could accomplish without it. Imagine how much I could accomplish If I were someone else.
* * *
I realized that at my age the only reason I was asking myself this question is because of my parents. Not because they didn't send me to good schools, but because they taught me to hate myself. It was the moment I knew I'd made the right choice. Because I'm a stupid daughter if I don't go to law school. Because I'm a bad one if I do. Because no parents' love should be that fickle.
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