I’m sitting here, writing an assignment for one of my units. It is the beginning of week one and I am already writing an assignment for one of my units. I am back to uni and I am one of those guys. A nerd, mature age student.
It’s a fairly easy, straightforward assignment in which I have to focus on the particular industry I want to work in when I graduate. (Book industry? Publishing industry?? Writing industry??? What does an author even fall under?)
I’m focusing on my strengths and weaknesses and the words are pouring so freely from my hands that I’ve long since gone over the word count. I stopped and stared at how easily I have been able to identify the good and not so good parts of my personality, my work ethic and just, simply, myself. I acknowledge the fact that some people are not so lucky to be so in tune with themselves, often in denial of their downfalls, or even, sadly, their positives.
It’s like I know that I wear my heart on my sleeve and that is both positive and negative. I know I am incredibly emotional but I have long since come to accept it, even like it, rather than ignore and pretend that I’m ‘cool,’ (newsflash: it’s not cool to pretend you don’t have feelings). I remember being in high school, and friends would tell me that my problem was that I cared too much, that I needed to care less, that I would live a much happier life if I stopped giving a fuck. I never quite got there. I never gave a fuck when it came to being who I am, but still haven’t quite learnt not caring about those who don’t care about me. Ah, all in due time.
Mum told me the thing that she loved but scared her the most was that I was so trusting. She admired my ability to ~only~ see the absolute best in people but didn’t want it to end in me being hurt. (Spoiler alert: I get hurt).
I know that sometimes I don’t put near enough effort into people who put effort into me, but I also completely understand that adulthood gets in the way. Life gets in the way.
For this unit, we had to do a personality test (which you may have done in Psychology in high school, but should totally do again, here.) You know when you read something and it’s so scarily spot on, that you’re like ‘yo did u get in my head to write this?’ That happened. Again, and again. And again.
If they are not careful, Mediators can lose themselves in their quest for good and neglect the day-to-day upkeep that life demands. Mediators often drift into deep thought, enjoying contemplating the hypothetical and the philosophical more than any other personality type. Left unchecked, Mediators may start to lose touch, withdrawing into “hermit mode”, and it can take a great deal of energy from their friends or partner to bring them back to the real world.
Luckily, like the flowers in spring, Mediator’s affection, creativity, altruism and idealism will always come back, rewarding them and those they love perhaps not with logic and utility, but with a world view that inspires compassion, kindness and beauty wherever they go.
Some people may not agree with the summation of my personality, they may not think that that is what, or who, I am. And they may think personality tests are absolutely bullshit. But the coolest thing? They don’t know me like I know me.
So you may say, ‘that’s wrong’, or ‘my opinion of you is different so I’m right’, or ‘fuck me she likes to talk about herself,’ but my strongest strength is that I know myself inside out and I’m happy, and quite proud, of who I’ve come to be.
I’m giving you all an assignment. You can be a nerd, like me, and get right to it right this moment; you can be a procrastinator, and do it whenever you remember; you can completely ignore this and get on with your life.
Sit down, make a cup of tea, and write your strengths and weaknesses. Actually probably make the cup of tea first…unless you have a lil slave sister like I do (luv u Yvette).
Don’t scold yourself for your weaknesses or pretend they’re not there. Vow to work on them and get so comfortable with them that when someone asks what your weaknesses are, you can proudly say,
‘I make a shit cup of tea. But I make a killer margarita. Let’s get drunk.’
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