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Sunday, 26 May 2013

Friends and Foes... Tolerance.

“I’ ve got a couple more years on you, babe, that’s all.
I’ve had more chances to fly and more places to fall.
Now you’re heading somewhere,
But I’ve been to somewhere,
And found it was nowhere at all,
And I’ve picked up a couple more years on you, baby, that’s all.”

I am not a very tolerant person. It’s one of my many flaws. I like everything to be done my way, and it irritates me when people don’t live their lives exactly the way I think they should. In fact, when studying my history course and reading about Mussolini, I was startled to find myself thinking that perhaps he had a point.

I know that this is a serious problem and I’m trying to keep it under control. I know my way’s rarely the best way, yet I can’t help getting frustrated when I don’t see eye to eye with people. I don’t let it show there and then most of the time, which is why many of you who know me don’t realise how intolerant I am. Just wait until you know me a little better and we’re sitting together in front of Come Dine With Me or The Apprentice, or reading a teenage magazine. That’s when I really come into my own.

When I see people wasting opportunities, getting into unnecessary bother, hurting those around them... I seem to conveniently forget all the utterly stupid things I’ve done and get really irritated with them. I forget the times I’ve not followed advice and get annoyed when they don’t. I forget that not three years ago I was the girl who never get involved, and wonder why people aren’t getting involved. I suppose I mean well: I don’t want people to make the same mistakes I have. Now that I’ve started—just started—to grow up, I want others to be developing too.

Especially in your teenage years, everyone is growing up at different rates. I talk to lots of people my age who take the “adult” side of the conversation: They pick the topic, ask the questions, take an interest in my life, and I’m quite happy to be childish and unimaginative by giving short, probably unsatisfactory answers. Then there are people I talk to who act the same way I did when I was fourteen, almost three years ago, and I wonder if they’re ever going to grow up. It’s a time when everyone’s developing fast but everyone starts and stops in different places. It’s sporadic and confusing and for someone like me, frustrating.

I suppose people like me—and you, if you’re reading this and sympathise with my worryingly autocratic views—need to remember that eventually, everyone will grow up. Maybe the reason they haven’t learned is because they haven’t made enough mistakes yet. I know it’s my mistakes I’ve learned from, so perhaps people who aren’t learning are simply smarter than me. And I just know that there are people who look at me and wish I’d grow up.

I just need to remember that eventually, everything will level out. I don’t know how or when I just have to be a little bit patient. A little tolerant. 

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