You’re Not A Terrible Person; You Just Need To Call Your Grandma
Image Courtesy of Annalise Bodine
Sometimes I feel like I could get hit by a bus and it would be my fault.
Not in a self-deprecating sense — more in a way that feels like it would be one of the lesser inconveniences I’ve experienced leaving my house.
Are you a terrible person? Most people would hopefully say no, but in reality, their response would likely be… “I don't think so?” So what constitutes a terrible person? You could bang your head against a wall debating the age old question, take your meds, or touch some grass. Up to you.
But unfortunately, what isn't up to you is the inevitability of being perceived by those around you. Self-perception is suffocating enough to cover any reflective surface in my house, and now I have to deal with other people too? Go figure.
The smoke alarm is going off and there's a cigarette still burning… you really are your own worst enemy. Every birthday text you don’t respond to, every boy you make fall in love (just to see if you can), every half-assed apology. Go ahead and ruminate on every faux pas and revisit the question: Are you a terrible person?
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Well, the votes are in, and the day of judgment has arrived.
You’re not a terrible person: you just need to call your grandma. Ask her how she's doing and tell her you love her.
Ghosting doesn't make you incapable of kindness. Having a joke miss the landing doesn't make you a stiff. Leaving the stove on doesn’t make you any less worthy of love.
Comparison is the thief of joy, and if you juxtapose your own uncensored perception of yourself with every supermodel/girl next door (who spends her free time saving orphans from burning buildings)… Well. I’d rather be hit by the bus.
But this isn't a mind-blowing revelation by any stretch of the imagination. Social media is fake, love yourself, blah blah blah. Now I’m just sounding like a broken record.
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Last week I needed a book for my literature class. I found it in Lib West all by myself (win). But the slidey shelves were positioned so the book was inaccessible. Did I ask the librarians if they could help me out?
No, I opened Sparknotes and got the abridged version of a book I was genuinely excited to read.
After that moment I realized I needed to begin some self-inflicted exposure therapy, and I highly recommend you to try it the next time you think you're a terrible person incapable of being a sentient human being. Ask that stranger to pet their dog. Make friendly conversation with your ex-situationship. And for the love of God, muster up enough courage to ask a favor of your local librarian.
Do something! Feel something!
Everything I tie is a slipknot, and I only buy Amazon jewelry because I lose it anyways. I grew up a military kid, so every friendship I made was held together with scotch tape. Since I’d only live in a state as a child for eighteen months, I knew it would hurt less if I didn't get too close. This obviously gave me a crippling fear of attachment. When all you know is ephemerality, self-sabotage becomes one of many flaws. Along with that, I’m an Aquarius and I was not put on this earth to be nonchalant. I don't even throw flowers out after they die.
And my grandma loves me nonetheless.
So pick up the phone, and give her a call the next time you’re walking to class or doing your makeup. Let her tell you about the three birthday cakes that were accidentally delivered to your brother, and tell her you love her. And when she says she loves you more, know she really means it. Flaws and all.
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Strike out,
Writer: Annalise Bodine
Copyeditor: Shaine Davison
Director: Hailey Indigo
Annalise Bodine is a writer for Strike Magazine Gainesville. If she hasn't gotten hit jay-walking at crosswalks (who has time for a walk sign), you can find her buzzing off a quad shot of espresso frantically typing in Norman. Any car very poorly parallel parked around campus is probably hers, and you can reach her on Instagram @annalise.bodine or by email at annalise.bodine@ufl.edu
