Lifestyle

We Took Ourselves Way Too Fucking Serious, Didn’t We?

It was great when it all began. I was a regular fan of sitting around debating about things that we couldn’t possibly have any influence over. We were intellectuals. We were alcoholics. We were 20 or 19 or 22. And, above all else, we took ourselves way too fucking seriously.

In 10 years, I went from the leader of a group of pseudo-intellectuals to cleaning up after and caring for an ailing woman who can barely make it to the restroom on their own without crying. In between, I made more money in my early and mid-twenties than I’ll probably ever make again.

What I realize is that every step along the way, I treat every group I belonged to as the most important thing in the world.

“These specifically targeted Facebook ads will save the world!”

“We’re solving the world’s issues by spending an hour talking about it in 5-minute chunks!”

But, nah, none of it was world-changing. It was rarely, even, life-changing.

Surely, it isn’t dangerous to be passionate about what you’re doing while you’re doing it. It’s a bit different once everyone else in the group agrees. Suddenly the group matters more than the individual. Group dynamics and politics and palace intrigue and all those terrible things bubble up to the top.

The takeaway here is that your priorities will change so much over time that the past prioritization will seem alien and—sometimes—cult-like to you. Sometimes these group dynamics will apply to your family. Surely this makes more sense than thinking your arbitrary job or club is the most important thing in the world.

In queer communities where we choose our family, the instincts to put your fellow friends of Dorothy above all else can be beneficial.

All I know is that moving through life and shedding these groups and priorities can leave you feeling a sense of unfulfilled potential or a longing nostalgia. Remember this feeling the next time you have any sort of a reunion for these things.

Remember that lost importance the next time a former friend drones on about their Roth IRA or their kinky sex club and remember that you aren’t alone in knowing—deep down—that you used to be a fucking idiot.

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