Well it has indeed been a while, hasn't it? And while some of that time could have been spent blogging and was spent, instead, watching tv and drinking tea (and thus I shan't apologise because tea = win) the majority was spent GETTING A DEGREE! That's right folks, you are now reading the blog of the No-Social-Boundaries Supernerd, B A ....BOOM!
I'm not sure if I'm allowed to put letters after my name until I graduate in november (or at all) but those little letters symbolise, quite nicely if I say so myself, something I've been thinking about a lot recently: labels.
Here's a big philosophical question: What makes you you? Is it your genes? Your interests? Your beliefs? Your roles and relationships? There are so many possible pathways that lead to the myriad of wonderful gorgeous parts of a person that it's almost impossible to know someone, or one's self, fully. Yet how many times have you heard someone described as 'Oh that's Oliver, he's the sporty one.' or 'You'd like my friend Will, he's really into Disney.' We seem to do this thing where we sum up people in one or two phrases, one or two categories and then that's enough for us. Oliver's sporty. Will likes Disney. And if Oliver and Will are friends (in this case, they aren't because they're from different places but, to clarify, they're both lovely) Will cannot be sporty and Oliver can't like Disney. Sport is Oliver's thing. Mickey and the gang are Will's friends, and Will's alone. That's it please. No more, no less. Let's be friends.
Perhaps I exaggerate, but part of the fun of being friends with someone is discovering new and exciting things about them along the way. I've been friends with Hannah since we were 14 and I only discovered a few weeks ago that she writes poetry, and if three years at uni has taught me anything (other than how to read books - who knew that needed learning) is that people really do change. I've changed. My housemate Jamie changed so much that I don't recognise her in half her facebook pictures. Yet one of the things I was most scared about moving home was that a lot of people in Wo-town haven't been around to see how I've changed. Some of the labels they used to describe me no longer apply, and some newer ones do. And I'm sure the day will come when there will be different things again. There are things I used to be that I didn't like, and the second I suggest that I am something to the contrary, people who have known and loved me for years will still say: 'Coming from you?' But it seems some labels can never be shirked. No matter how many times my friend Polly dyes her hair, she will always be called ginger. Is she naturally a red head? No. How many times has she accidentally gone ginger? Twice, that I can recall. That makes 2 moments out of an infinity of being a brunette but they were hilarious, and thus she is ginger Polly. For all of time.
But here's what I really want to know: do we create the labels, or do the labels create us? It's quite a douchey question so I shall explain and ramble as quickly as possible so you all forget. For my final project in Creative Writing I wrote a chapter for my superhero novel. I read it to Jamie, she liked it. My teacher gave it *toots own horn* a first and I liked it. I think that was something good that I wrote. But I refused to let Pimms read it. Pimms is my older cousin and I've always cared what she thought of me and looked up to her (one thing that hasn't changed about me is that I'm ever so slightly prone to hero worship...) It terrified me that she might not like it, and then I might not like it anymore. So I wouldn't let her read it but then I realised: I'm already starting to think less of it, I'm already stressing out over her opinion when a) it's only one opinion and b) she hasn't even read it! I became the scared, intimidated little cousin again all from fear that she would see me as that. Ludicrous! I ended up just giving it to her for that reason and she liked it. Where was the beef?
How many times does someone have to call you something before you'll believe it, and, even, be it? If enough people said Ryan Gosling was unattractive, would that change how everyone saw him? Or maybe if he heard it, perhaps he would be more self-conscious, exude less of that marvellous yummy-ness, and actually be less attractive. My point is, we need to start thinking about the things we put on people. It's human nature to talk about each other, to work out what makes people tick, but we have to remember to keep an open mind. Who are we to say what or who a person is or isn't? Or that a person is still the same person as they were when they were 16. What damage could we be doing simply by refusing to accept that we can't understand everything about a person? A label shouldn't be written in permanent marker, it's a personality trait, a mood even, something that's there today but might not be tomorrow and isn't for anyone other than you and the big man upstairs to decide about you.
And I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in a world where Ryan Gosling is unattractive. The thought is too much to bear.
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