Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote a really short post about Peter Pan and Wendy. I would like to revisit it.
I have always had a really hard time understanding Peter. Peter lives in a constant state of worry (and if you know anything about my stress levels, you know that's something I can identify with). He worries that the people around him will leave. He worries about taking on responsibilities. He worries about forgetting and not having a mother.Peter has temporary solutions, and he has to keep solving the same problems over and over. He lacks the confidence to carry out lasting solutions, like going back to England with the rest of the Lost Boys. He's just too afraid.
Then you have Wendy. I absolutely love Wendy. I love that she comforts Peter when she finds him crying in her room (and I cry at the end when she doesn't). I love that she's excited to be a mother, and she tries really hard to be a good mother to the boys. I love the way she looks out for Michael and Jon. I love that she realizes just how important it is to grow up. I love that she loves her mother and father. I love that she enjoys her childhood and excels in adulthood. Sometimes, she has nostalgia for her childhood, but it doesn't inhibit her.
I identify with Wendy much more than Peter. Is that an arrogant thing to say? At least, I really want to. I'm not like Peter, even if we have the same worries (except, I've got an angel mother and a killer memory; in those areas, I've clearly got the leg up). The thing is I don't think Wendy worries any less than Peter, but she's just more confident in her ability to solve the problems. She doesn't do everything perfectly, but she has no questions that she can do things well if she works at it. That's what I'm hoping for, what I'm working toward.
I will graduate in in less than two weeks. I'm making plans for after graduation. Where to live, securing a job, what to do with the ridiculous number of books I've accumulated--there's a lot of things to worry about. I've looked at a lot of twenty-somethings around me, whether I know them personally or not, and there's the overwhelming sense of I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing-with-my-life. And they seem to be okay with that. In fact, they kind of relish in that. Like immaturity is something to be proud of.
And it bothers me.
Since when was that something enviable? I'm tired of hearing about how awkward people are. When did your twenties become a competition for who could be the most awkwardly put together? When did it become a badge of honor to avoid responsibility and decision-making?
I DON'T GET IT.
I don't feel good about my life when I'm like that. I feel scared. Frustrated. Pathetic. Embarrassed. Overly vulnerable. I feel like Peter Pan. It's not a place I like to spend my time. In fact, it's a place I am actively avoiding. I do that by making plans (even if they don't stick, at least I'm pushing toward something), by practicing manners, wit, work, and integrity. I do this by praying, asking God to confirm to me when I'm on a good path, and having faith that He will not let me go far if I'm honestly seeking His guidance.
I don't always get it right. I make mistakes just like everyone. But I'm not interested in building an identity around the things I do poorly or don't understand. Rather, I construct myself with a collection of things I know to be true, things I'm excited about, and a slowly-growing list of accomplishments. I'm excited about my life. I'm excited about growing up.
And I'm feeling more Wendy-like than ever before.
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