Me and Ms. Zahra
I am morphing and I don’t know how I feel about it.
Last week I found myself helplessly cast as the victim of an unfair conversation. Twice!! The conclusion: I played the “You’re mean and hurting my feelings” card on the first go-round, and “Okay, sorry for disturbing you even though I’m not really disturbing you at all but really calling because I need a friend but I’ll just try again later because I have low self-esteem and deserve to be treated this way” card the second time.
This is not me. When have you ever known me to be meek or quiet or hurt?? Ew. You and I are used to the sharp-tongued, hard-edged, slightly mean-but-really-just-blunt-you’re-too-sensitive-and-I-don’t-care Zahra who will call you out for being a jerk or disrespecting me.
Hello! I burn bridges for a living/ I value my dignity and can afford to lose a friend since I have plenty more where that came from/ All those other phrases that let you know I’m not afraid to tell you how I’m feeling even if you judge me as arrogant.
But suddenly this voice is gone…muted and even…forgotten, replaced by an omnipresent force feared to have swallowed my ego whole…the kind, the loving, the patient…dun dun dun….MS. ZAHRA!!!
(RUNNNNN! DUCKKK!! AAHHH!!)
Okay so let me explain the quick backdrop to this story and then you will understand the complexity of my neuroses (and I will thereby in your eyes become a little less mysterious and a little more lame).
Four (score and twenty) years ago I made one of biggest decisions of my life to date: I changed my academic/career history by veering off the road of sure success as an amazing cutthroat criminal lawyer and petering down the path of an educator.
I couldn’t quite tell you how this change of heart snuck up on me, but I can tell you that one of my biggest reasons for making the shift was out of consideration for my future self’s personality and character. It’s true.
Because we spend so much of our life at work or thinking about work or trying to make ourselves better at what we do for a living, I saw my options as the following:
1. Become an amazingly awesome lawyer who, in order to win so many cases, must by nature be defensive, argumentative, overly rational, critical, sharp-tongued, hardened and perhaps even a little….mean.
2. Become a lovely, nice, nurturing, kind, patient, cinnamon-lavendery smelling teacher who hugs and wants to be hugged and has feelings and is naive and full of wide-eyed innocence about the world and who loves to be creative and fun.
Okay so obviously these are exaggerated caricatures in my mind’s eye but you have to admit there is a certain amount of truth here. While these descriptions rely heavily on stereotypes, being a Varsity (undefeated might I add) debater in high school, I understood that for me, the successful debater and the rest of me couldn’t stay two separate people for long. Eventually, the traits that allowed me to succeed also became the traits that were primarily used to define me.
And while that had been okay thus far in my life, as I said, I started thinking about the future Zahra. Do I want her to be a hard ass? Or do I want her to be approachable and soft and kind and nurturing?
I don’t do balance well - I’m an all or nothing kinda girl. And so I left behind the dream of being a lawyer and all of its perks for the path of teaching hoping it might eventually turn me into someone patient, quiet, and that dreadfully bland word…nice.
Which brings us to today. Or last week rather, when I realized that I’ve already begun arriving at the corner of “timid” and “nice” - much sooner than I anticipated so that suddenly when I find myself on the receiving end of statements that are not okay I can’t seem to defend myself because the fighter in me has fled, and in her place is the kind, ever-loving, wimpy Ms. Zahra who backs down and sulks away at the slightest hint of push back.
Please.
I knew when I started that being a part of this profession would mean a change in personality - I even welcomed it. But now that this change is happening, now that I am naturally becoming more patient and calm and nurturing I’m not sure I’m okay with it. Or rather, I’m not sure I’m okay with the reciprocal cost of losing my ability to speak up and say it like it is without having to stop and consider the other persons feelings every second. (Come back, oh Z who once spoke with her heart, valiantly risking consequences for the sake of honesty!)
As I sit at lunch and listen in awe to SA recapping how she put so-and-so in his place for even tryna disrespect her, shooooot - there is a hint of admiration in my heart followed by a realization: you don’t admire something you already possess, Z, you admire the qualities and characteristics you desire…
So is that it then? Have I traded in my gloves for pencils? My sharp tongue and wit for a hug and some tears?
And what does this mean for us? Can we still be friends or will you step all over me? Will you no longer find good company in me because I don’t fight back? Because I am a different person? Will I choose to say goodbye because your disrespect is something I no longer have the strength or the voice to address?
And…am I okay with that??
