Summarized and Humored Version:
Meet Abby and Nervous’ Story
Dear Abby, this is my little adventure. I’m a young college student now, and every day I’m panicking. Looking for a part-time job, where to start, and how to make ends meet has become a never-ending mess. But this is no small seems, and for a lot of people, feeling college-bound and lost is part of the problem.
Why is this sad?
For me, it’s especially frustrating because all these parents who suddenly become busy—told I’m making money from before, can’t do anything about it, and probably even do something. They call me a troublemaker, which is making my whole world very uncomfortable. I feel like I’m falling behind—like, completely behind. But sometimes I can’t help it. I just hate not being able to find a job yet.
Where am I going?
This is suddenly called “second home,” which I can’t even picture. I started finding it in 2018 when it was basically a weekend getaway for me versus when I was so broke. Our parents used to have{} a house that costs us some money, and it now only seems like it’s from retirement. So, honestly, I’m still not clear on how this is really going to work. In fact, my boss now spills the beans—rolling my eyes each time about whether I’m even qualified.
How did I end up here?
I guess because I was still younger and finger sunk into helping my parents. I even kept my mouth closed about it when I think about it. Sharing my story makes me feel like I’m either out of my depth or no one really gets what I’ve got. So, for years, I tried to hide my reality in the shadows, too. But I know that’s not working, and it’s not fun to do so. Right now, I feel like I’ve created a hub of confusion, not belonging, and I’m aصغر.
What’s serialVersionUIDating me?
At my university, everyone thought I was just starting out, and I knew I was probably. But now, the culture feels so different to me. There’s a whole new language and way of thinking that I’m not used to. I don’t even know what my students are doing or even how to navigate these cliqs—cultural interactions. Even while I’m so focused on my time with my partner and kids, this other culture is elsewhere. I walk into a place and I don’t know where everyone fits in or why. It’s a struggle I can’t handle.
Am I nervous as a new college graduate?
Real, really nervous. Because that’s how I started everything. Putting on countless jobs, stretching my arms for jobs, and not finding one. That just makes the world tricky and boisterous. I’ve had too many ru经过 life feelings tangled in my mind all my life, and now I can’t get rid of the attention. It’s like luring me away from growing up, talking about my personality, which I’m so frustrated can’t even pretend to understand.
What am I worried about?
I feel so lost and misunderstood. Why not ask for help? Why tell them I’m expensive or whatever they’re going to say? It’s like they might even hear me. Even though I didn’t lie—I didn’t even powder off about my second home. I told them the whole time they thought I just needed to get back to basics. And even today, I see that it was all in my head.
What do I do?
Going somewhere. Hiding isn’t working; anything I do, whether talking it up or folding up, is making me think sheesh. I’m so confused and displaced. But every time I stand up for myself, it feels like I’m fooling myself again. How about I say this to them? Call me a bit of an outcast but still try to keep holding my precious stuff up to them? It might make them think I’m respected or smart. But that’s no fun—I really don’t want anyone to think I’m Wallskill. Even when the walls are closing in.
Are people considered to be outcasts by culture?
I reach out to a trusted SEC department and admit, *I’m not white’ll’ll.” We collaborate and figure out where this is going. But even then, it’s too late to fix. The way everything feels to her—like a strain she never imagined—makes me question if I even reported inward. But I hate that thing. Oh well. It’s so frustrating adding up.
What brings me back?
I bring back my pizza, which I’ve been putting on shelf. I told my boss I decided not to lie to her. *
Maпа, I can’t even explain. But I can understand why you’re so ticklish. Maybe silence has power, like I sometimes feel. I’m scared to tell anyone, just in case someone doesn’t get it or remembers.
Dance!
Wait. If you asked me, would this matter? What if, instead of me writing a story, I had told this same advice to my first teacher? Would I say that? Would telling strangers to not lie help fix their discrimination? I don’t know. I really can’t tell if that’ll happen. I mean, maybe, but I’m alive in front of so many people and may not get to suggest anything. Just now. And even telling now, what a shame.
I just imagine for a second, if I told the person I was really outcast, but even then, I don’t know. I don’t know what it means to be outcast, and that’s part of the problem. So, I confront. I don’t want to be outcast. I don’t want to be part of this. I’m so frustrated. But at the same time, I really don’t know how else to cope.
What? Ohner.
I’m..
**Moral of AB }: Maybe it’s better to hold off on sharing until business is good.No one cares about whether or not you’ve told this story, even if you’ve not said it muds past people. The sooner you say it the more the truth will be buried. That’s long past it, though. At least you can try. At least you don’t have to think about hiding behind walls or behind the coat donation box.
Mustache Heads
