Learning to Occupy Space

When I was in 9th grade, I learned about diffusion for the first time in chemistry. I learned about how you could spray perfume in one corner of a room and the gas molecules would spread out, filling the whole room. We've all met people like that -- people who walk into a room and fill the space with their personalities. Partially, I think, this is a talent. Some people are born with an extra sense that causes heads to turn. For the rest of us, learning to quietly demand our space in the world is a skill that we must develop. Sometimes I feel like my brain is hardwired like some caged wind spirit. With unnerving frequency, my brain tells me "Run. Get out of here. Start over. Go somewhere where no one knows you. Try again." And surprisingly, this has been fairly easy to execute. By chance and circumstance, I've found myself going to a new school every couple years, a school where no one knows me. As I start thinking about colleges this summer, a new fantasy grips me. Just get through this year, I tell myself, and then you'll go to college and everything will be perfect. On a rational level, I realize this is silly. I am grateful for my friends and family and friends, of course. Overall, I am happy with my place in life. But the next instant, I find myself in another awkward situation and all my subconscious wants to do is grow wings and fly away. I think maybe this is the plague of youth. Sitting in a room where everyone has more experience than you and everyone seems to be doing more meaningful things than you, the first instinct is to try and not bother anyone. There is a strong reflex to fold into yourself and make yourself invisible. All the alarm bells are going off in your brain telling you, "I don't belong here!". As young adults finding our way into the world, we are pioneers. We don't know where we belong and neither does anyone else. Anytime we venture into the unknown -- whether it's applying for a new job or exploring Mars -- it's our job to stake our claim in the ground. Fighting for a seat at the table is one task but being able to say, "yes, I'm new here but I deserve this seat and I'm here to learn"  is a new task on it's own. Slowly, I'm learning the only space you can occupy in the world is the spot you carve out for yourself. What is the beauty in living your life scrunched up in a corner, just squeezing through the crack of the door? Naivete is a blessing -- it is simply the opportunity to learn in disguise. Awkwardness is most often an illusion, a trick your mind plays on you. This summer, I will learn to wear my self-confidence like armor and I will distribute my thirst for knowledge like a business card at a career fair. I will learn to be more present, to show up to every opportunity with three tools in my tool-belt: an open-mind, an eagerness to work, and the determination to stay put, to claim my own space.