Last Friday, I survived what became a cruel re-enactment of finals week circa 2000 (not that long ago, I know). I successfully completed the comprehensive exam for my Phd (cue Rocky music), and in preparing for it, relived my experience of college finals all over again. The not-gonna-shower-unless-I-have-to state of mind. The can’t-eat-anything-but-pre-made-pre-packaged-preservative-packed food because making it takes time away from cramming and paper-writing. Falling prey to academic pressure once again, I became my undergraduate self. I blended in with the engrossed mass of frantic, wide-eyed, and over-worked college freshmen, trying to master the unmasterable. Hadn’t I learned anything since freshman year? Apparently not.
To make matters worse, I also felt the heightened awareness of one's lack of physical attractiveness, which is often sacrificed to an increased attention to mental capacity (the looks go first, not that I'm claiming to be a beacon of looks). In between cramming and forcing new information into the cracks of my memory, I was reminded of my lack of put-togetherness. I was particularly humiliated when faced with female students who seemed to still have time to blow-dry and style their hair, apply make-up, and plan an outfit that didn’t consistent of days-old jeans and an oversized sweater. Unlike my undergrad self, I was more aware of this difference the second time around. As a grad student studying for a 3-hour oral exam in literature, teaching, media, rhetoric (someone well advanced mentally), I immediately shrank to about a quarter of my size in the presence of pretty girls.
I thought, as you grew older, you were supposed to gain awareness of the more important things in life and put less stock in appearances. Yet here I was, feeling diminutive and insignificant in the face of physical beauty. Had I been hiding behind my accumulated degrees for too long? My insecurities came racing back. To my disappointment, I haven’t changed all that much since freshman year. Maybe I still care about looks, as I’m sure many others well beyond their freshman years, still do. How do we deal when faced with our perceived flaws? I’m not sure, although I can at least say that the effects of this insecurity are wearing thin. I may have felt an overwhelming lack of self-confidence at my most fashionably uncoordinated moment, but I’m happy to say that it was only a moment and it passed. It’s now Monday after the exam and I’ve put that undergrad self back in my memory. I wore jeans today, did a little something with my hair (nothing out of the ordinary) and carried on business as usual.
Maybe the insecurities remain, but perhaps their hold over us lessens with time, until eventually we no longer perceive their hold, at all.
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