Saturday, June 19, 2010


Do people change, or is it perhaps that maybe we have changed all along?

It's an interesting thing to think about. I came across this question today as my friends and I reflected on the friends we used to have in comparison to the friends we have today. Of course, time passes by and whether or not we are at fault, friends seem to come and go. They're there when we need them, no matter how temporary their friendship may be. But the remarkable thing is, how do we justify why some slip and others don't? Different interests, different paths we choose to take. These reasons may be the ones we tell ourselves to explain these separations. And certainly the most popular one that most people, myself included, tend to revert to is simply:

They've changed.

And, to some extent, maybe this is true. Off hand, even I can think of various people who have drifted in and out of my friend circle. And, yes, I can see various ways in which they have changed: whether it be their own morals, interests, or other aspects of their life.

But maybe the root of the problem lies within our own morals, interests, and lives. It's easy to chalk something up to others, in fact it's human nature to place the blame on others when it is most convenient for ourselves. Deep down, I think it's mainly because we change as well. Example: One friend and I were inseparable for years during high school, she had certainly proved trustworthy and I considered her one of my closest friends. To this day, I've seen her maybe three times and each time we see each other, it turns into an awkward encounter, one in which we're treading in conversational waters, struggling to find things to talk about amongst each other.

Unfortunate? Yes. Necessary? Perhaps. Maybe the point of having friends that come and go is to grow with them, change accordingly, and set ourselves back on the path we choose to take in life. So maybe my friends now might not be here forever, but for the time being, they've taught me more about myself than I ever could.

Just a thought.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Annie, Get Your Gun.

My warm welcome to Blogspot.

Where to begin? I came across my sister's diary this afternoon (she assuredly assumes I haven't a clue where she hides it) and began flipping through the pages only to find endearing stories of her middle school world, little clippets into the life she leads at school, her friends, and how she looks at the world. And I couldn't help but steal from her an entry that simply read:

Do you think having a very mean, rude, opinionated older sister can have an impact on your entire life for the worst? yes.

I immediately, and selfishly I'll admit, placed the blame on my other sister for causing my sister to even question this. But I began thinking, and did even more wondering about the question she asked herself. In turn, I asked myself:

How much influence do I really have on my siblings?

I have two younger sisters for whom I strive to be the perfect student, athlete, community activist, etc. I volunteer, I play instruments, I read, I rarely do anything that my parents frown upon, I abstain from typical teenager stupidities (drugs, alcohol, sex, etc.). But how have these decisions really affected my sisters? I asked my sisters to imagine themselves at my age and what kind of person they'd like to be. Their answers correlated almost exactly to the kind of life I lead. Now, perhaps they felt they needed to respond accordingly because I was the one who had asked them in the first place. But I'd like to put more faith into them than that and opt to answer my question optimistically: I've had a great influence on my siblings, and will continue to do so until otherwise notified.

As reassuring as this is, this worries me. Yes, I've worked extremely hard to get to this place in life where I am my sisters' role model. But I also want them to understand that they need to be themselves to figure themselves out without my help just as much as I still need to find myself. I'm not asking for them to revoke my role model status, but perhaps for a little wiggle room: room for mistakes, room for the fear of failing, room for exploration and discovery without having my sisters follow my every move.

Just a thought.