Over the years I’ve had a lot of people tell me, “You must be really brave!” or ask me, “But weren’t you scared?” when I mention various things I’ve done over the course of my short life. What have I done to elicit such reactions? Well, the following are the most conspicuous offenders:
• When I was 16, my 15 year old friend Melissa and I joined her 21 year old sister for a month long, unsupervised jaunt around Costa Rica. During this trip I boarded a “bus” that was little more than a covered pick-up crammed full of people – one of whom had a gun strapped to his hip.
• When I was 20, I went to Russia for six weeks. At the time, the US State Department was issuing warnings to American citizens, advising them to avoid Russia due to a ten-year high in anti-American sentiment.
• When I was 21, I went to Russia for seven months, during which time I frequently hitchhiked home alone in the middle of the night after clubbing.
• When I was 22, Melissa and I moved to South Korea to teach English.
• When I was 16, my 15 year old friend Melissa and I joined her 21 year old sister for a month long, unsupervised jaunt around Costa Rica. During this trip I boarded a “bus” that was little more than a covered pick-up crammed full of people – one of whom had a gun strapped to his hip.
• When I was 20, I went to Russia for six weeks. At the time, the US State Department was issuing warnings to American citizens, advising them to avoid Russia due to a ten-year high in anti-American sentiment.
• When I was 21, I went to Russia for seven months, during which time I frequently hitchhiked home alone in the middle of the night after clubbing.
• When I was 22, Melissa and I moved to South Korea to teach English.
• Five months later, we snuck out of the country in the middle of the night.
• When I was 23, Melissa (she’s often my partner in crime, huh?) and I spent two months in Costa Rica, subsidized by our on-the-fly web design business.
• When I was 24, I drove from Florida to California by myself.
• In California, I worked as a Special Agent for twenty-seven months. (No, that is *not* a lie.)
• My government job sent me back to South Korea when I was 25, during which time I visited the DMZ and straddled the 38th parallel in the treaty room at Panmunjom.
• When I was 26, I moved to Russia for a year to teach English.
• When I was 27, I rode a motorcycle across the melting ice of the world’s deepest lake, Lake Baikal (located in Siberia).
• I am currently living in South Korea, Kim Jong Il detonating nukes north of the border not withstanding.
I don’t consider any of the above acts of bravery – they’re just part of my life, how I live. (Okay, some of them – namely the 3am solitary hitchhiking and the motorcycling across Lake Baikal – were definitely less bravery and more lapses in common sense. And that solo drive across the US? That was simply done out of necessity; I couldn’t very well have started a new job from the wrong side of the continent, now could I?)
Looking back over the 28 years of my life, there’s very little that I’ve done that I consider *brave*. To me, bravery implies facing a fear and conquering it. And I don’t mean going bungee jumping because the idea scares you – that’s just stupidity. I mean facing down a fear that you might very well encounter in everyday life. That being said, I doubt that those individuals who expressed awe over my so-called “bravery” would be too impressed by the handful of times I’ve successfully removed spiders from my living space. (I’m sure my mom – who loves spiders, by the way – can vouch for the times I’ve had her do the spider-removal for me, even as an adult.) Yes ladies and gentlemen, spiders give me the willies, and I do my best to avoid them at all times. As I mentioned in my reply to Stephanie’s original reference to arachnophobia, I believe there’s a direct relationship here to my exposure at a young age to Tolkien’s spiders of Mirkwood and their ginormous relative, Shelob. Thank you, Peter Jackson for so vividly bringing that nightmare to life for me. Seriously, a shiver just ran through my entire body.
But other than returning spiders to their native habitat (i.e., anywhere where I am not), I can think of only one thing I have done in 28 years that I view as having been an act of bravery: When I was 25, I asked a guy out. And it even worked out pretty well for a time too. So yeah, in 28 years, during over half of which I have been quite interested in dating, I have asked a sum total of ONE guy out. I don’t think I’d ever been quite so nerve-wrackingly terrified in all my life. And don’t even get me started on making new friends. It’s just not something I do. I have no idea how one goes about successfully meeting people outside of school or work. The thought of going to a bar or club alone is petrifying. (And I did actually try my hand at online dating when I first moved to CA, and let’s just say I’m never doing *that* again!) I haven’t made any new friends since moving to Korea, and I’ve been here nearly six months. I don’t mind; I’m fantastically self-sufficient, and I’ve been having a blast since I’ve been here (and I did already have one friend living in Korea when I arrived, so it’s not like I’m all alone or anything). I would like to have more people in my life, but the thought of trying to go out and round up new friends is, honestly, frightening to me.
• When I was 23, Melissa (she’s often my partner in crime, huh?) and I spent two months in Costa Rica, subsidized by our on-the-fly web design business.
• When I was 24, I drove from Florida to California by myself.
• In California, I worked as a Special Agent for twenty-seven months. (No, that is *not* a lie.)
• My government job sent me back to South Korea when I was 25, during which time I visited the DMZ and straddled the 38th parallel in the treaty room at Panmunjom.
• When I was 26, I moved to Russia for a year to teach English.
• When I was 27, I rode a motorcycle across the melting ice of the world’s deepest lake, Lake Baikal (located in Siberia).
• I am currently living in South Korea, Kim Jong Il detonating nukes north of the border not withstanding.
I don’t consider any of the above acts of bravery – they’re just part of my life, how I live. (Okay, some of them – namely the 3am solitary hitchhiking and the motorcycling across Lake Baikal – were definitely less bravery and more lapses in common sense. And that solo drive across the US? That was simply done out of necessity; I couldn’t very well have started a new job from the wrong side of the continent, now could I?)
Looking back over the 28 years of my life, there’s very little that I’ve done that I consider *brave*. To me, bravery implies facing a fear and conquering it. And I don’t mean going bungee jumping because the idea scares you – that’s just stupidity. I mean facing down a fear that you might very well encounter in everyday life. That being said, I doubt that those individuals who expressed awe over my so-called “bravery” would be too impressed by the handful of times I’ve successfully removed spiders from my living space. (I’m sure my mom – who loves spiders, by the way – can vouch for the times I’ve had her do the spider-removal for me, even as an adult.) Yes ladies and gentlemen, spiders give me the willies, and I do my best to avoid them at all times. As I mentioned in my reply to Stephanie’s original reference to arachnophobia, I believe there’s a direct relationship here to my exposure at a young age to Tolkien’s spiders of Mirkwood and their ginormous relative, Shelob. Thank you, Peter Jackson for so vividly bringing that nightmare to life for me. Seriously, a shiver just ran through my entire body.
But other than returning spiders to their native habitat (i.e., anywhere where I am not), I can think of only one thing I have done in 28 years that I view as having been an act of bravery: When I was 25, I asked a guy out. And it even worked out pretty well for a time too. So yeah, in 28 years, during over half of which I have been quite interested in dating, I have asked a sum total of ONE guy out. I don’t think I’d ever been quite so nerve-wrackingly terrified in all my life. And don’t even get me started on making new friends. It’s just not something I do. I have no idea how one goes about successfully meeting people outside of school or work. The thought of going to a bar or club alone is petrifying. (And I did actually try my hand at online dating when I first moved to CA, and let’s just say I’m never doing *that* again!) I haven’t made any new friends since moving to Korea, and I’ve been here nearly six months. I don’t mind; I’m fantastically self-sufficient, and I’ve been having a blast since I’ve been here (and I did already have one friend living in Korea when I arrived, so it’s not like I’m all alone or anything). I would like to have more people in my life, but the thought of trying to go out and round up new friends is, honestly, frightening to me.
7 comments:
Can this really be the blog"super"group with this irrational fear of spiders that seems to be a common factor?
I don't like meeting new people either. I tend to prefer the people I already know. Unfortunately, they keep leaving FL, so you know...what's a girl to do. ;)
Seriously, I made some great friends in the Masters program, but that was school and it is much easier. I don't know how people do it once they leave the world of school except at work and well, that's kind of luck of the draw. Sometimes people say that I am brave for similar (and in many cases the same) reasons you listed. I think that it is actually a combination of boredom and at times stupidity (i.e. au pair in Spain for family met on internet; no references, no phone calls, no background checks).
p.s. I'm happy to be your partner in crime anytime.
Melissa
Definitely - it's been far too long since we finagled a cheap vacation.
Supergroup peeps: Perhaps we should change the header of the site to say, "BLOG SUPERGROUP: WE FEAR SPIDERS" :-)
I'm not scared of spiders, though. Just roaches. I like spiders because in theory they kill and eat roaches.
I've had the same reaction when I wanted to lead groups in tours around Australia. Why is that considered brave?
I'm not scared of spiders at all either; I don't like anything that can bite me. I do tend to spend a good chunk of my life avoiding pain if at all possible.
So you really DID become "S.A.K."! That is amazing, Jane. Who would have thought that Manhunt would somehow turn out as prophetic?
Yep, I was SAK... although our supervisors held the official title of SAC (Special Agent in Charge) and their supervisors were Deputy Regional Directing Special Agents in Charge, or DRDSAC, pronounced "dirty sack" - I kid not.
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