On having everything fall into place Or: The story of how I became a lazy fuck

I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this. Maybe this is just some kind of self-reflection. Maybe someone will be able to identify with or learn from or simply enjoy reading this. I’m sorry this might be a little self-absorbed, but I guess that’s okay, it’s a private column. Maybe I should rename it „Random Musings of a twenty-something“.

So the other day I had a debate inside my head about how everything seems to kinda have fallen into place in my life – I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s far from perfect. I don’t have an awful lot of money, I fight with my boyfriend, I flunk exams and cry in the bathroom at 3 am over the finale of the TV show I am currently watching like everybody else does. I struggle with all the same things most of my peers do. So yeah, in general I lead a pretty normal life with all the usual obstacles everyone in their twenties faces. 

But despite all these things, despite the fact that I do have problems – ‚cause, let’s be honest – who doesn’t – I find that recently a lot of things have been handed to me – no, not recently, always.

I was one of those kids who adults called a child prodigy – a term I never would have picked for myself, but apparently I was gifted. I won’t bore you with the details of what and why, but the thing is I was categorized as much more mature than other children my age, I started doing various things much earlier and always, always, much better than my peers and because of that, I never had a quiet, peaceful day in my childhood. Because, you see, when adults think you’re special, and other authority figures confirm that belief, it’s the beginning of a never-ending cycle of doing stuff. I was sent to many different classes, from instruments to sports and everything in between. I got pushed to try everything I showed interest in and while I am aware that’s a privilege, I was also regularly reprimanded for loosing interest or wanting to quit something, always pushed to try harder, longer, better which always, undoubtedly, lead to me wanting to quit even more. And I always got explicably good grades, without having to do anything. When that happens, especially when all those things come together, your parents expect those kind of achievements constantly and forever and sooner or later, you’re bound to disappoint. Disappointing my family was my greatest fear when I was little and that is a big burden to carry for an 8 year old.

But all that soon took it’s toll – I had always gotten A’s, without studying, without working for them. And so I never learned how to to that. Study, I mean. To this day, I can’t prepare for an exam, I just don’t know how. And since I relied on the fact that everything would just work out anyway my whole life, I didn’t even care.

And the worst thing is: it did. Everything still worked out. I’ve graduated with grades better than they should have been and minimal attendance – the combined hours of skipped classes alone should have made graduation impossible. But already back then I knew I could get what I wanted in other ways and it all worked out. No, I didn’t sleep with my teachers. I skipped half of my classes, I got mediocre grades, I didn’t do my homework and I was still considered a „good student“, a „good girl“ – simply by being my usual self – strong-willed, passionate about the things I loved, quick-witted and very, very kind to those who mattered to me.