Not regretting my awkwardness

Matt Pearl

Sometimes, I cannot help but reflect upon the most awkward years of my teenage youth. And boy, there are plenty from which to choose.

I think about my first date, during which I was so nervous I could barely drive my car–my dad’s car, actually. I remember being skinny, wearing a basketball uniform designed to fit a young man with a larger frame than myself.

I remember walking face first into a ‘No Parking’ sign while walking and talking with a girl, my head turned toward her in conversation. That hurt. It didn’t do my ego much good either.

Oh, the memories myself as a 21-year-old student teacher at Maryville High School, learning the ropes from my cooperating teacher, Janet Jelavich. She knew just what it meant to be a thorough, dedicated teacher. I knew how to read books and look smart. She taught me much, awkward hopeful educator that I was all those years ago.

And to some extent, my awkwardness has never completely gone away. Stepping into adult roles has always felt strange to me: husband, father, publisher, business owner–in each instance, I felt like a kid trying to walk around in a grown-up’s shoes.

But I regret none of it. And I don’t just mean the grown-up stuff.

I mean wearing big shoes, and having a mop of shaggy hair on the top of my head when I was 16. I mean being almost too shy to talk at the table at the high school prom. I mean getting to my college term paper research day at Northwest Missouri State, looking down and realizing I was wearing the most high school apparel ever: my Missouri Boys State T-shirt.

Why? Because our experiences profoundly shape the direction of our lives. Am I glad I was–and can continue to be–so awkward? Not really. But I was just a kid, trying to learn to be one of the adults. It’s still tough sometimes.

There were always those kids who were better at playing it cool than I was back then, but I still suspect most of them were feeling as awkward and out-of-place as I did. Maybe they would admit it today, and maybe not, but we all know it’s true.

No thanks, I’ll keep my skinny, weird awkwardness, thank you. I learned that cool was a relative term, and the only happiness it can really bring is when a person sees himself or herself as cool. Other people can praise you and stroke your ego, but that’s a pretty empty experience after enough time.

Besides, being awkward and goofy let me have my kind of fun as a high school kid. I could read nerdy sci-fi books or watch superhero movies. I could know that my pants were ‘high waters,’ and I could read comic books without regrets.

The cool kids couldn’t do any of those things. They had to focus on maintaining just the right look, watching just the right shows and movies, saying and doing things that helped to protect their cool image.

That was too much responsibility for me, and so now I may look back at my teenage years with fondness and fun. I did what I liked, with very little care in the world for what people thought of me.

If I allowed my trips down memory lane to affect me negatively, I would just stop taking them. But each fondly reminds me of my awkwardness, and each is a recollection that I have grown to treasure this life.

Basically, folks, there’s no use in looking back to your awkward past with anything but happiness. I know I’ve learned to have fun reminiscing about them.

Matt Pearl owns and operates newspapers in King City, Albany, and Grant City.