Q

Can you believe that I have been writing in this space – semi-actively – since March 2006?

By some foresight I have privatised everything pre-2009. You don’t want words from your fourteen year old self out in the internet. Yet, I’m so glad I have kept these relics. Thoughts, feelings, fears, dreams, opinions, joys, goals, stupid and embarrassing though they may be.

Au contraire, trawling through the years of writing, I’m in awe of my younger self’s heady and naïve courage. For half a decade, I wrote so confidently on divisive issues: homosexuality, religion, politics… it seemed almost as if I wanted to incite an argument. I don’t know where I got that bawdy confidence from. How did I respond to the barrage of comments – for and against – methodologically, undaunted by being wrong or strangers hating me for my core beliefs?

I no longer have that foolhardiness. 

With age, I know only one thing for certain: I know absolutely nothing with certainty. Even with my stronger convictions, I no longer have the urge to convince others in that conviction. Not that I think young Q was wrong – I loved that she tried, loved that she wrote in hope to be convinced otherwise, to better parse, analyse, and understand / refute her own beliefs.

Similarly, I’m in awe of the bold choices I’ve made without thinking them bold. How I was so at ease with putting myself out there with #foodporn, performing with abandon with everyone who mattered watching. How I broke all the rules of an honors thesis in psychology, and made #fp – a self-staged production – the subject of my graduation thesis (?? How did I do this ??). And how was I so cavalier with my chances at an internship, choosing instead to work at a kindergarten, stage #fp, and help out a friend for a startup (which turned out to be the pivotal moment for my career path).

In all these unconventional choices I have derived only the best memories and experiences. They have opened the doors to all the opportunities I have that led me to today. I have not a feather of regret for all these choices young Q has made. If my prefrontal cortex was pre-developed, then I wish everyone could have a safe sandbox to go crazy and play during their years of pre-development.