Big Girls Do Cry: On Why It's Okay to Be Vulnerable

"What are your strengths and weaknesses?" Standard interview question, isn't it? And sure enough, you can probably gather some strengths, but with the weaknesses, it gets a little more tricky. You have to be careful not to give yourself a backhanded compliment ("I'm such a perfectionist" *giggles*) and point out an actual area of improvement, but you also have to make sure you mention something you can actually improve upon ("I'm late to work every morning, but it's okay, I set a lot of alarms now." Yeah, sure.) So yes, you really need to reflect upon that one, but hey, if you think about it, there's a kind of strength in knowing your weaknesses. And sometimes, you can even turn your weaknesses into strengths. 

Where am I going with all this? Well, I like to think that I know my weaknesses pretty well. I'm a major drama queen. I like to justify it by saying I'm a writer who is all about conflict for storytelling purposes, but that's heaps of crap. I'm also way too impulsive and oversensitive. My freshman year at USC, I tore up my name on my RA's bulletin board, ironically one that was about emotion control, because I felt that I had been put in an uncomfortable situation because of it. Was I overreacting? Most certainly. But I'll also be the first to admit that I spent a great portion of that year crying on my bathroom carpet at 3 AM, partly due to that entire chain of events. Was that overreacting? Maybe. But I couldn't help it, and not for a moment was I proud of it. It wasn't great. It wasn't great at all, which is why last summer, I decided to cut back on the tears.

And this is where it gets important. Here's the deal with crying: it's not necessarily a bad thing. It's an emotional release that stops you from doing potentially worse things, things that I will not get into in this post. But it's not necessarily a good thing either.  My second semester, I'd created this great theory of being a "happy mess," which was complete and utter BS, and was essentially just me forcing myself not to cry instead of, y'know, dealing with the problem at its core. But since I was to be an RA my sophomore year, there was no room for the mess part. I thought about it a lot over the summer, and I figured that as a peer leader, I'd have to be strong, confident, happy and, well, basically have my life together. There was to be no time for tears and emotional breakdowns, which is why my motto soon became "RAs Don't Cry." You know, like Big Girls Don't Cry. "Happiness is a choice" they say, and although I'm pretty sure that is not true at all, I tried to convince myself that it was. All throughout RA training, I would force myself not to cry (except for that one exercise that literally had 200 people crying), and when I did (on move-in day, a situation related to the year before), I hated myself for it. Nevertheless, for a little while, I seemed to be doing okay, with no major emotional outbursts. That is, until that one day in band camp when I decided I couldn't be in Silks any longer.

That's when the façade began to crumble. RAs do cry. RAs are people, and people cry all the time. Being in a leadership position doesn't mean you're no longer a person. Yes, this job requires a great deal of emotional strength, but we are by no means superhuman--and nor should we be. Holding up an illusion of perfection, after all, can be equally destructive. Leaders are role models whom people inadvertently compare themselves to, so yes, we should project a positive image, but pretending to be faultless is simply lying. It's lying that can make people feel inferior or insecure, and lying that prompts people to believe we won't understand their problems and will judge their life choices. Yes, trust me, I've been there, that's how it works. So it's okay for leaders to be vulnerable, as it is for any other person to be vulnerable. 

And you know what, sometimes an RA should be vulnerable, because vulnerability makes us human.

It was a Thursday night in band camp, and I hated every second of it. And I know that you're not supposed to enjoy band camp, but this was different. I felt like an outsider. I felt like I didn't belong, a although feeling that haunts me every second of my life, for reasons we won't get into now, this time it was real. And feeling like I didn't belong terrified me. At the same time, I also felt incredibly guilty for what I saw as abandoning my residents. I felt selfish for doing something for my personal enjoyment when I signed up for a job that was all about being selfless and helping others. So on the Friday before classes started -- two days after my residents moved in and two days before the end of band camp -- I chose to quit marching band. I couldn't be the RA poster child and the Silks poster child at the same time, and couldn't be putting 100% into both things, as I knew that eventually, I would be letting an amazing group of people down. And since there wasn't exactly a choice to make there, I handed in my flag. 

Except, I didn't feel any better. I felt that I had failed, once again, I felt like a quitter for not persevering through band camp, and I was heartbroken over giving up spinning and abandoning the Silks. I felt empty, in a sense. That day, I went back to my apartment, opened my door, put some cupcakes on top of my condom bucket (lol) for my residents, and tried to be the super-RA I had always wanted to be. Except I was still in tears, and when my residents ran into me, a super-RA is probably the last thing they saw me as. And then an odd thing happened. "You know you can always talk to us if you're sad," one of them said. 

Those were my words, and I told him so. Those were my standard, exclusive RA words.

"But you're crying" he said. And then I told him how I quit band so I could be a better RA. I told him that I felt like I wasn't doing enough, and that I was abandoning them by doing something that isn't all that important. And so he responded, "yes, we need you now, because we've just moved in. And yes, we'll need you from time to time, but we won't need you all the time. You clearly love band, and we'd feel bad if you quit for us."

Needless to say, the next day I was back in band. (After a wonderful one-on-one with my section leader who essentially said that I'm letting the Silks down by leaving them. Band, she said, shouldn't be my number one priority, as it isn't hers either, and it should simply be something I do because I enjoy it. As long as I'm there and I do everything to the best of my abilities and circumstances, I'm good.) Most people just saw me quitting the band for 24 hours as one of my drama queen moments, and though it wasn't, I was okay with that. You know, sometimes you just need to distance yourself from something to realize how much it actually matters to you. I also discovered that by opening up to my residents -- and, perhaps, by crying in front of them -- I got a lot closer to them. They saw that I'm not just this idea of a person, that I'm more than my job and my position, and that I'm a person who actually has feelings and things she is passionate about. And I can confidently say that to this day, those two guys who saw my crying in my apartment are some of my residents that I'm closest to.

Of course, by no means am I saying that RAs should make crying in front of their residents a habit, or that we should in any way use our residents as emotional dumpsters. If anything, we're the emotional dumpsters in the RA-resident relationship. What I am saying, however, is that even if you're in a leadership position, it never hurts to show that you're human. We're all more than our position and job title. Just because we choose to pursue a job that is essentially about caring for people and acting as a role model, we don't always have to have everything in line. Plus, that also makes it really easy to burn out.

Personally, I'm terrified of people who appear perfect. They're intimidating, they seem unreal to me, and I for sure would not want to open up to them. I'd feel ashamed and self-conscious that I'm not as great as them, and what's more, I'd feel judged. I'd feel like a failure talking to a living proof of the fact that I'm doing life wrong. And yes, I know that's stupid and that nobody's perfect, Hannah Montana has taught me that, so I shouldn't be intimidated by people who seem to have everything together. But I am, and I know I'm not the only one. On the other hand, vulnerability is often misinterpreted as a weakness, when it really isn't one. I'm much more comfortable being vulnerable with someone who is vulnerable with me. As conflicting as it sounds, it requires courage to be vulnerable, there is strength in being vulnerable. You hear me?

Vulnerability is a strength. And that's all I have to say about that.

USC: Year Two!

Remember when, last year, I published a bunch of videos about my first semester at USC? It was fun, wasn't it? Yeah well I'm not doing that again. I'm also not posting another One Second a Day, because I'm a miserable failure my phone has been out of storage since June.

What I can do, however, is share a cool anecdote that will lead us all into a wonderful recollection of the adventure that this past semester has been. So here goes...

In order to end our last RA staff time of the semester on a positive note, our supervisors gave each of us a blank sheet of paper and told us to list everything we had accomplished these past few months. I, staying true to myself, stared at the empty page for a good ten minutes, then announced that I hadn't accomplished anything.

Now, as expected, this didn't elicit the best of reactions from my fellow RAs, with one of them tearing the sheet of paper out of my hands and threatening to write the damn list for me, so yeah that happened, but at the end of the day, this whole thing really made me think. Shortly afterwards, I had my RA evaluation meeting, which was essentially my supervisors glorifying me for half an hour, then telling me that the only area I'm lacking in is self-confidence. And, I mean, this is not news to me. But by now I've basically accepted it as a fact of life (which, again, points at me not having self-confidence) and I didn't think that this was something particularly worth worrying about. That is, until it led to me receiving a '2' for it on my evaluation sheet, at which point my perfectionism kicked in and I decided that I do need to do something about it.

And this whole ordeal was exacerbated with a conversation with one of my friends, which went as follows:

Me: I think I'm too negative.
My friend: Yeah, you are.
Me: Wait, really?
My friend: You just said our world is declining to shit.
Me: Oh. Right.

Therefore, in an attempt to turn things around and heighten my self-confidence a little bit, I've attempted to list all the things I've accomplished this past semester. So, in no particular order:

1) I've been an RA for an entire semester! And what a semester it was! 3 am incident reports, creepy FaceTime calls, vomit on my doorstep, programs where no one showed up, name what you want, I've done it all! And what's even better, I somehow found a way to enjoy all these things (weird?). Of course, the best parts of my job are my wonderful residents and my staff team, aka the fRAmily of the Century. Also, longer post to come on the RA life, so stay tuned.

2) I survived marching band! And I've got my sophomore jacket to prove it! The Silks also won Section of the Year and USC is going to the Rose Bowl. Oh yay! As part of band, we also took a charter flight to Dallas (so fancy) and headed back to the Bay Area to beat stanford (SUCKS). Fun fact, I also happened to quit band for a day, but that's an entirely different story (because sometimes you can't appreciate something until it's gone, or some cliche like that).

3) I took some of the best and most challenging classes possible, and got As in all of them. For more on that, click here.

4) I worked as an assistant director on two short films, which both turned out very impressive, and I'll share the links with you when I'm able to.

5) I learned how to cook pasta. Little things, everyone, little things. (I also failed to turn off the stove after my first attempt at cooking, leading to a rather passive aggressive exchange with my roommate.)

6) I got myself a turntable. Or more like, I rewarded myself with a turntable, because sometimes, you just gotta #treatyoself. Sounds a lot more appealing, right? I essentially justified this purchase by claiming that this is a gift to myself because I got the RA job. I still don't have any records, though, because I buy too many shoes they're expensive. But yeah, again, little things. I'm not really sure why this is an achievement, probably because I spent so long debating whether I really need it or not. Also, if you're curious, the exact one I bought is sold out, but this one is really similar (yes it's from Urban Outfitters, don't judge).

7) I was asked to sit with USC President Nikias during his annual Thanksgiving Dinner, gave an interview to KTLA the same night, and was the subject of an article for USC News (which, as it is, didn't turn out so bright, so I won't link it here. They misspelled my name in it, and that was just the least of issues. DISCLAIMER: my name is not Lillia, and if you call me Lillia, please don't expect any positive interaction with me ever again).

8) I went to New York City for winter break, with my roommate, and we planned everything all on our own and I put together the itinerary all on my own and we managed to survive five days there and you can read more about it here.

Aaaand I'm sure that there were other things as well, but if I can't think of them now, they're probably not that important. Also, I've got to reserve some things for the 20 Thing I Did at 20 list.

(And also, I know we're talking positivity here, but just to be fair, for every achievement there were about two failures, so there's really no need to get jealous of me lol. I'm seriously considering starting a blog titled "Fail of the Day," that's how bad it is. But then I feel like 50% of my friends stick around just to listen to my anecdotes of the times I messed up.)

Winter in California

Summary of my winter break: Waking up at noon. Eating cereal without milk. Assuming the Internet browsing position. Watching Vlogmas videos and living vicariously through them. Noticing that it's 7 PM already. Eating a Babybel. Watching a bad movie, because good movies make me feel too many things. Crying anyway, because feelings. Also, (500) Days of Summer was just too soon. Not writing my RA application. Attempting and failing to take care of my friend's basil tree. Going to sleep at 2 AM. Repeating all of this the next day.

Of course, there were exceptions. I went to Target once. I went to get food a couple of times, though that was only after my trip to San Diego (more on that later) and me realizing that I sorta need to eat, and not just live on corn flakes without milk. I also went to The Grove to get into the Christmas mood on the 23rd, that was sorta nice, and you can see some photos of that here:

My roommate invited me to spend the 24th with her family, and since she is the best and I really didn't want to spend Christmas Eve alone in my dorm room, and also since it seemed like a good idea, I of course said yes. And it was a good decision, except that there were some minor problems. 

See, after The Grove, I didn't go to sleep. I spent the entire night Skyping my family, watching them decorate the Christmas tree, watching them eat their Christmas dinner, watching all the food and then looking at my empty fridge, singing Christmas carols with them, and then repeating the same thing with my dad's family. Just after my dad lit the sparklers on the Christmas tree and we sang one full song before my Internet started lagging, however, my roommate texted me that they were on their way.

And I was tired AF. So tired that I even fell asleep at one point during the day. As on the party, the whole thing was pretty informal. We were eating on paper plates with plastic forks and playing Apples to Apples all day, which is, well, quite unlike what we do with my family, because you all know my family. We wear fancy dresses and high-heels and usually spend 15 minutes driving around in circles before arriving at my uncle's house not to disturb the meticulously planned order of arrival, we all drink expensive champagne while standing upright in the middle of the room and eat using such a wide range of silverware that I'm always afraid that the spoon I'm using to eat my soup with is in fact some obscure fish knife. But I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with that, of course, this is what I'm used to, and this is what I love. That said, I really loved how laid back everything was at Joanna's. Except that everybody was speaking Spanish and although I mostly understood what they were saying to me, there was no way I could reply. There are only three things I can say in Spanish, and I am pretty sure "I am a girl","I am pregnant" and "rice" weren't answers to the questions they were asking me. Yep. Apart from that, I also started randomly crying on two separate occasions  because although Joanna and her boyfriend were adorable together and I'm so happy for them, they kept reminding me of how f@#$%!&g heartbroken I was am, and since we all know how I emotional I am, it was given that there were gonna be tears. Oh well. Just a piece of advice here: your failed relationship is not something you want to be reminded of on Christmas Eve.

After Christmas Eve, I came back to my dorm and returned to my winter break shenanigans, preparing for the long awaited Bowl Game, which brings us to the third part of this post. USC was headed to the Holiday Bowl in San Diego this year, and of course, as a band member, I got to go as well. Now, you all know that I'm not the hugest football fan, so what I was looking forward to the most was 1) going to Disneyland before San Diego 2) getting to see San Diego and 3) getting to see *somebody* again. As it is, of course, none of these three things worked out, as 1) Disneyland was replaced by a Star Wars screening 2) apart from some sketchy streets and a harbor (?) with obnoxious seagulls, I barely saw any of San Diego and 3) I talked about one minute with said person.  Also, we had to perform in the rain, and spinning soaking wet flags is not fun, I had to sleep on the floor for two nights as, well, how do I put this, people did stuff in my bed, had coffee spilt on my uniform, and had the band director yell at us, as he decided to change the entire pre-game show last minute. But yeah, Dr. Bartner, blame it on the Silks... And on top of all that, we lost the game.

That said, there were some better moments. The view from our hotel was gorgeous, I had an amazing time with some of the Silks, I had decent food at Tender Greens after eating corn flakes for weeks, and had a privilege of witnessing a conversation in which our sketchy waiter asked my Chinese-German friend if she's Mexican, and then proceeded to talk to us in French. Also, the Wisconsin band was kinda cool and we almost hung out with them. The best part, though, was when we got to perform at the Holiday Bowl parade! It was just 28 minutes of smiling and doing cadence and spinning Tribute to Troy and people admiring us. You can see that below or on YouTube here, and you can even see me mess up walking at 1:40, because I suck. 

The parade.

The one picture I took in San Diego, from our hotel room.

And that is it really. Classes start next Monday. I have submitted my RA application. The dental students are back on campus (the greatest enemies of all SCA people), the dining halls are opening on Thursday (I actually miss dining hall food), and my roommate plans on coming back soon as well. I'll spend the rest of my break ice skating in Santa Monica, seeing Patti Smith on Saturday, freaking out about how my friend will react to seeing her plant again (I mean, at least it's still alive...) and probably crying. 

--

PS. This is sorta badly written. Sorry about that. It's 3 AM.