I just got back from a special lecture my university hosted. It was special as in I paid $20 to attend it.
Jokes aside, this was a very special lecture. It featured Hugh Herr from MIT, double amputee turned engineer/researcher/entrepreneur. He talked about bionics, which is the field of applying biology to design and design to biology. It's a field that I've been very interested in for a while, as I originally was a biomedical engineering major. He, among other sources, inspired the topic of my rhetoric research paper last semester on the ethics of advancing cyborg technology.
Anyway, he lectured about his own research in the field and how it's advancing. It is incredible what is being done. Paralysis, hearing, blindness--almost every disability you can think of has radical research underway that is counteracting these effects. I can't tell you the exact specifics, because he used a lot of jargon he didn't bother to explain, so I only understood about 20% of what he was doing, but even then it was truly incredible.
About 3/4 of the way through the lecture, I teared up. Why? Because what he is doing is so enchanting. It reminded me why I want to be an engineer: to advance technology to benefit humankind. To improve lives. To save lives.
As a student, you tend to focus only on the short term. On the class you're in right now, the difficult homework you're working on right now. The test you have next week, the classes you have to register for next semester. There's just so much stuff that needs to be done in an incredibly finite amount of time that you can only afford to expend your energy on the short term.
So as you sit in your mechanics class with your incoherent, half-dead professor droning on about something that you stopped paying attention to 20 minutes ago, you lose sight of the long term. You forget the fundamental reason why you are in that class. You become bored, worried, and completely unenthusiastic. All you're focused on is getting an A (or just passing) the class. You forget the amazing things you can accomplish with what you're learning.
But sometimes you get a glimpse of what inspires you. Very rarely, you see the big picture again. It rekindles that passionate fire inside you that almost got burned out. And it makes everything seem worth it again--that you can face anything you're dealing with now in the short term, because it will be really, really worth it in the long term.
This has only happened to me twice in my short college experience. Once, of course was tonight. The other time was during a lecture given by a faculty member in my engineering club on fluid dynamics research. It was fascinating what was being done. And again, I felt that fire being ignited, reminding me that that impending computer science test was really not part of the big picture. This feeling truly gives you a sense that everything will be okay if you focus on your dreams.
I feel like this is the key to not getting burned out. I need to continually see the big picture--see it in its entirety, its beautiful, mesmerizing, inspirational self. In essence, I'm going to use the long term to drive the short term.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Sunday, April 5, 2015
The Makeup-Confidence Theorem
Ever since I was 6 or so, I always wanted to wear makeup. But back then, it was those cheap, completely shit sets that you'd see in the fucking grocery store or something that I wanted. You know, with the nail polish that smudges together when you try to use it, or "lip gloss" that is essentially tinted glue. There's just something so enchanting about those sets as a little girl though...
Anyway, I've been wearing makeup for about 7 years now. It started out completely minimal--literally just powder. I don't even think it really changed my appearance; I just wanted to believe it did and so it did (total placebo effect right there).
A few years later, the heavier makeup comes in. The foundation, blush, eye shadow, lip products...basically everything I ever wanted to wear, I had. And it was amazing. Like most kids, I struggled with pretty bad acne for a while in my early teens, and makeup helped so much with how I felt about myself. Also, I've kind of got this blushing problem that my friends like to say is adorable, but in reality it just highlights how shy I can be and makes me uncomfortable. Makeup gave me this courage that I needed to feel confident enough to talk to people, a kind of insurance that my flaws would be camouflaged.
The problem, however, is that this feeling is addicting. Makeup becomes a mental crutch of sorts: you believe you need it to be yourself. You feel like you can't be yourself if you're not wearing it. It's strange, I know. But for years I felt there was no turning back to the no-makeup days. So I wore makeup almost every day, because it gave me confidence that I needed.
Well now that I'm in college, I find myself tired and not giving a fuck about things more often. So there have been a few days, probably 3, that I have not worn makeup to school. Maybe I wasn't as concerned about the prospect of not wearing makeup as I usually would, but it was still kind of scary. It's like taking your first step after being on crutches; it's terrifying and you don't completely believe it will be okay.
Guess what? Those days were almost exactly like the 362 other days I don't wear makeup. Nobody said anything. Nobody asked if I was feeling okay. The difference was that more people talked to me. And people opened up to me more so than usual. Heck, some strange guy even asked for my number on one of those days. And yeah, I blushed, but it was much more okay than I thought it would be.
It's odd, because once I stepped away from the mirror thinking "Oh God I'm not wearing makeup today; this is going to be bad," I forgot about it. That courage makeup has given me was still there, even in the absence of the very thing that gave it to me. And honestly, I just realized that people really don't care as much as you think. Your friends, if they are your friends, will not care either. One of those days was during the end of finals week last semester. I was sitting and talking with two friends after we all had an exam that day; all of us weren't wearing makeup. It was such a raw moment; I felt like we were all being completely honest with and accepting of each other, you know?
Makeup can be a barrier if you let it be. But in my eyes, it gives you confidence, and that's a huge positive. It completely changes how you face the world. That confidence, I've found, also carries over to when you don't have it. And that's even more valuable. It shows that it's all truly within; that you don't need external things to change who you are on the inside. Makeup sometimes has a negative reputation these days because of "feminism" saying it's bad because you're putting on makeup for other people. But, at least in my experience, it's really for yourself.
I'm not going to completely stop wearing makeup or anything. But I think it's been an important revelation to truly accept that it's okay not to wear it. You will still be who you really are, makeup or no makeup.
Anyway, I've been wearing makeup for about 7 years now. It started out completely minimal--literally just powder. I don't even think it really changed my appearance; I just wanted to believe it did and so it did (total placebo effect right there).
A few years later, the heavier makeup comes in. The foundation, blush, eye shadow, lip products...basically everything I ever wanted to wear, I had. And it was amazing. Like most kids, I struggled with pretty bad acne for a while in my early teens, and makeup helped so much with how I felt about myself. Also, I've kind of got this blushing problem that my friends like to say is adorable, but in reality it just highlights how shy I can be and makes me uncomfortable. Makeup gave me this courage that I needed to feel confident enough to talk to people, a kind of insurance that my flaws would be camouflaged.
The problem, however, is that this feeling is addicting. Makeup becomes a mental crutch of sorts: you believe you need it to be yourself. You feel like you can't be yourself if you're not wearing it. It's strange, I know. But for years I felt there was no turning back to the no-makeup days. So I wore makeup almost every day, because it gave me confidence that I needed.
Well now that I'm in college, I find myself tired and not giving a fuck about things more often. So there have been a few days, probably 3, that I have not worn makeup to school. Maybe I wasn't as concerned about the prospect of not wearing makeup as I usually would, but it was still kind of scary. It's like taking your first step after being on crutches; it's terrifying and you don't completely believe it will be okay.
Guess what? Those days were almost exactly like the 362 other days I don't wear makeup. Nobody said anything. Nobody asked if I was feeling okay. The difference was that more people talked to me. And people opened up to me more so than usual. Heck, some strange guy even asked for my number on one of those days. And yeah, I blushed, but it was much more okay than I thought it would be.
It's odd, because once I stepped away from the mirror thinking "Oh God I'm not wearing makeup today; this is going to be bad," I forgot about it. That courage makeup has given me was still there, even in the absence of the very thing that gave it to me. And honestly, I just realized that people really don't care as much as you think. Your friends, if they are your friends, will not care either. One of those days was during the end of finals week last semester. I was sitting and talking with two friends after we all had an exam that day; all of us weren't wearing makeup. It was such a raw moment; I felt like we were all being completely honest with and accepting of each other, you know?
Makeup can be a barrier if you let it be. But in my eyes, it gives you confidence, and that's a huge positive. It completely changes how you face the world. That confidence, I've found, also carries over to when you don't have it. And that's even more valuable. It shows that it's all truly within; that you don't need external things to change who you are on the inside. Makeup sometimes has a negative reputation these days because of "feminism" saying it's bad because you're putting on makeup for other people. But, at least in my experience, it's really for yourself.
I'm not going to completely stop wearing makeup or anything. But I think it's been an important revelation to truly accept that it's okay not to wear it. You will still be who you really are, makeup or no makeup.
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