20 Something Manifesto. Christine Hassler

Graduate student, 24, serious relationship, Missouri

      MORE, BETTER, DIFFERENT

      In the Basic stage, we live our lives under a microscope of self-evaluation, but at first our focus is almost constantly looking for ways to be “more, better, different.” We don’t know who we are, which is bad enough, but what we do know about ourselves we often don’t like. We’re desperate for change and self-improvement.

      However, comparing ourselves to others, and trying to emulate them, is not a successful strategy. After all, there will always be someone who has more or seems to be doing things better. As the cliché goes, “The grass is always greener on the other side.” But really, it only seems greener. Since you are looking from the outside, you have no way of knowing what struggles the other person is going through inside. When we are unhappy with ourselves, another “yard” is always going to look more appealing, but we must focus our attention on watering our own lawn and making our grass as green as possible.

      Aim to enrich your life, not improve yourself by changing, adding, or deleting. In other words, stop trying to be a certain kind of person, and simply do the things that you enjoy. For example, if you like to create things, join a painting class. If you want to express more kindness in your life, find opportunities to volunteer. If you simply want to play, maybe it’s time for a trip to the batting cages. Bring out the parts of you that you know are there, instead of struggling to mold yourself into what you think you need to be. Become more accepting of who you are.

      As we begin to shed old externally given labels and identities, and as we realize we not only have a choice but the ability to create who we are, that is when we shift from the Basic to the Investigative stage on the Self-Awareness Continuum.

       “MY LOVE/HATE RELATIONSHIP WITH ME” by Kimberly, 21

       DECLARATION: I’m not doing things anymore to be moreor better or different; I’m doing them to improvethe parts of my life that are okay the way they are.

      I’ve never been completely satisfied with myself. My thighs are too wide and my belly’s too soft. My one eyebrow arches slightly higher than the other (an asymmetry exaggerated with a few margaritas). I’m beautiful but not by society’s standards. I’m impatient, fidgety, melodramatic, emotional, and tend to read over, under, and in between lines that don’t exist. At times I say the worst thing at the most inopportune time.

      This is me, though. I’ve made all sorts of promises to myself to be “more, better, or different.” From losing weight and eating the correct daily servings of fruits and veggies, to going out more while trying to save money, to working harder at finding the perfect job.

      I grew up as a ballet dancer, gymnast, and straight-A student who spent eight years in Catholic school. I was a perfectionist and total type-A personality. I had to be the best so that others would like me. But it takes a lot of energy to try to be perfect, and I completely neglected any internal growth.

      At about halfway into my degree, I was thoroughly confused. I threw myself into work so I didn’t have to think or worry about anything else. I had good friends, a good studio apartment, and a good amount in the bank. I even met a great guy and fell in love. As crazy as it sounds, my hectic schedule facilitated our relationship; I didn’t have any time to overanalyze and freak out about it. So I was set, but only on the material level — not the emotional.

      I got an internship at a big NBC morning show, and when it was over, I couldn’t figure out why I felt like I failed. Why did I leave that internship feeling worse off than before? My self-doubt returned with my free time. I started asking my best friends and my boyfriend, “What do you like about me? Why do you even bother spending time with me?” I had held my disdain for myself so deep inside myself that it ate up all my self-confidence. The answers I got from the people I respected were honest and straightforward: I’m smart. I’m funny. I’m beautiful. I’m happy. But it didn’t sound like they were talking about me.

      That’s when I started realizing that the reasons they liked me were the same reasons I liked them — and I would be appalled if they ever doubted their own worth. I started to think, “Maybe he’s telling me the truth. Maybe he just loves me for me.” Radical, I know. I resolved to try — try to stay this happy and find more. I realized my life didn’t need any drastic changes.