“She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there, leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together.”
– J.D. Salinger, A Girl I Knew
There’s a John Green book that I’m looking forward to reading about a girl who people perceive differently. Each person in the book imagines her to be a different person they want her to be rather than listening to who she actually is herself.
I think it’s an incredible concept because I think everyone imagines everyone else to some extent. Because I wonder all the time.
“The fundamental mistake I had always made – and that she had, in fairness, always led me to make – was this: Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.”
– Quentin Jacobsen, Paper Towns
I don’t think anyone thinks I’m any kind of miracle. I don’t think anyone thinks I’m an adventure. But I do wonder sometimes if this is all having a type really is. A kind of person you’re accustomed to projecting your dreams on.
“I’m just saying that it was easy for me to like Lacey before. It’s easy to like someone from a distance. But when she stopped being this amazing unattainable thing or whatever, and started being, like, just a regular girl with a weird relationship with food and frequent crankiness who’s kinda bossy- then I had to basically start liking a whole different person.”
– John Green, Paper Towns
This is the problem with sayings like “Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice,” or “Girls don’t fart. Fact.” It’s just not true. We’re made of muscles and bones and brains and awesomeness. We aren’t here to be what is in your heart, to be your soul mate or to help you become the man you were meant to be. We’re here to be awesome and to be ourselves, just like you.