Used to

I used to hate jazz. I thought it too irregular, trying too hard to be avant-garde, too evocative of rainy nights on a city street under the yellow glow of streetlights. What I know now as smooth jazz or easy listening, I used to call Weather Channel music. And yet gradually, Dayton's smooth jazz station 106.5 F.M. has crept its way up my programmed radio buttons in the car to its current position at #3.

I also used to hate techno, but now I name Daft Punk among my favorite bands.

I used to slather my eyes with foul-smelling thick liquid black eyeliner and a rainbow of colors, blending them in unusual patterns a la Neopolitan ice cream. Now the only makeup I own is the cheap mascara and brown pencil eyeliner I bought for a wedding last weekend.

I used to speak up all the time, be thrilled about making my voice known and arguing my views. The world was my soapbox. Now I choose my battles and listen more, and I'm less resentful of people who I disagree with.

I used to be rather shy and introverted. This has barely changed; I don't like being in groups in which I only know a few people. I try to dissipate awkwardness with candid humor. But I've become more assertive and less passive with the people I do know. I'm still quite easily intimidated, but...I think not quite as much as I used to be.

I used to think that friends would always be friends. And then I saw some of the things that friends can do to each other.

I used to be quite naive as to the real workings of the world, corporate and governmental politics, "playing the game" instead of doing things the honest way. And then I went to college. I started working in a place that had a union. I started voting. My eyes were opened.

I used to dream of being a successful author of juvenile fiction, poetry, and fantasy epics. Now I'm graduating college with an English degree so I can be a web developer. (At least for now)

I used to be more independent. Now I hate going anywhere alone. And yet I'm still not social.

I used to think I could take on anything the world threw at me. Now I know that's not true. There will things that make me crumble, that will grab the end of a loose moral thread and unravel my whole tapestry, things I will do that will be so wrong that claiming responsibility for them is physically painful. I will cry. I will be overwhelmed. I will be needy and receive nothing.

I used to think that in the larger picture, I am insignificant. But if I am insignificant, why do I exist? Nature abhors a vacuum, and if I'm ultimately insignificant, it would not have wasted the time and energy to create me. I have a purpose. I'm just not meant to know what it is.

I used to think I could never affect a person so much that when I wronged him, it would nearly destroy him.

I used to not be jealous. But that was a delusion.

How delusional am I now? How many things am I sure about that will turn out to be wrong in ten years? I feel like I have a better grip on who I am, what kind of person I am and will be, but I could be farther from reality than I will ever recognize.

And even farther than I used to be.