“Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah blah. Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. - Zooey Deschanel
Never before have my Pinterest-scrolling fingers stopped so fast when I came across this quote from one of my favorite actresses, Zooey Deschanel, on my Pinterest feed. After reading this quote over and over until the words felt like sticky English grumblings on my tongue, I immediately felt at peace with myself. I could feel Zooey’s metaphorical arms hugging my heart, feeding my cookies, and telling me that everything will be okay.
This quote was, and still is, extremely profound for me, especially when there is drama, hate, scandal, and misinformation clogging across our newsfeeds like a sewer system backup.
As a communication studies major and writer, over the years since I first saw this quote, my skin has thickened quite a bit to handle criticism and opinions whether or not that information is constructive. I think that everyone will go through this period in their life where you learn how to avoid the hatred and negativity of the world get to you. This is a critical life skill.
However, we are human, and some days no matter how hard we try, that negativity is going to get to us at some points. And this is okay, but what is essential is that you cannot let it stay with you. You have to be able to move forward without any negativity or hatred weighing you down.
And beautiful reader, I struggled with this this week. I am extremely thankful that nothing terrible or unfortunate happened, but for a few moments, the negativity got to me.
Running from class to class, packing launches, checking my work emails, doing laundry, replying to clients, trying to do homework, working in a multiple group projects, and so on, even the best multitasking is bound to become overwhelmed and burnt out allowing the negativity to affect us more than usual.
It was this past Thursday for me. I’d been trying to organize my group for a project, finish an annotated bibliography that had somehow weaseled past my radar and was due that very evening, respond to work emails, schedule podcasts, and more while trying to shove a buffalo chicken quesadilla down my throat before my next night class.
After running through the rain with my arms full of books and folders to my last night class, I plop into my seat the moment my professor asks to speak with me. I try to pop up as fast as my exhausted legs can let me, and I join my professor at the back of the classroom.
“I wanted to talk to you about your presentation two weeks ago,” he begins, and my heart begins to pound in my chest. This can’t be about plagiarism, I didn’t copy anything, and I swear that I cited all of my sources correctly, my mind stammers.
I nod, signaling for him to continue.
“Your facts and argument were effectively constructed, but when you present, you are just way too emotional, like how an opera singer or a kindergarten teacher would speak.”
Although my professor did not lay a single hand on me it felt like I’d been slapped across the face. This criticism, albeit meant constructively, was the last straw to break the camel’s back for me that day.
The metallic, bitter tang of blood seeped onto my tongue as I bit my bottom lip a little too strong to keep the strong urge to cry at bay. Come on Abby, don’t let this little comment get to you, he doesn’t mean to hurt you, I repeated over and over in my head.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying desperately to keep it all together. “I’ve been in theater and dance for years so sometimes I can slip into that kind of speaking when I’m excited or passionate about something.”
“I see, but you are a senior and a communications scholar, I just supposed you would have controlled something like that by now,” he replied nonchalantly while rubbing his chin philosophizing his next statement. “You are emotional as a woman, so it’s not too surprising I suppose, but I want you to work on speaking like a scholar more effectively, you have the right content, but not the right delivery.”
And with that delivery he strolled undisturbed to the front of the classroom to prepare his PowerPoint.
Standing there utterly hurt, confused, angry, and prepared to start a lecture over his sexist comment, I was immediately distracted by the flow of fellow students coming into the classroom.
Swallowing my anger and hurt to my best of my ability making my stomach sick, I returned to my seat forcing myself to put it behind me and to start the lesson.
“Syndrome Evidence” the title slide announced, okay, not too horrible, at least we are done discussing serial killers, I thought with a sigh of relief.
Three slides later and my blood was boiling hot enough to register as a fever. Our main topic of the night: how battered woman’s syndrome is not a syndrome and holds no water in a legal setting. Now, as a survivor of battered woman’s syndrome from a relationship three years ago, I felt personally attacked from our main topic.
Without warning I felt myself become defensive, argumentative, furious, and ready to fight for not only my experience, but for every person who has ever suffered from any form of abuse.
Crescent nail marks marked all sides of my hands as I employed every ounce of restraint I had left. Please help me God, give me the strength to get through this, I prayed.
“Abby,” he called my name … not good, not good …
“Yes?” I replied quietly.
“You seem distraught, what are your thoughts on battered woman’s syndrome in relation to its authenticity within the court room?”
I just stared back at him, attempting to gather my thoughts to say them in the most scholarly delivery I could muster I spat in my head.
“Although this experience may not classify as a syndrome,” I started. “Abuse, regardless of age, gender, sexuality, or race, is something that has to be considered within all legal perspective. The abused, whether he or she is the defendant, has to be protected and provided justice for the abuse they’ve received.”
“Ok, so what if the defendant is a woman who killed her husband in his sleep, and she claims ‘battered woman’s syndrome’?” he challenged. “She can’t use that as a defense. If he was beating her, why wouldn’t she just leave? And what kind of evidence would she have to bring to the table to prove it?”
And the oh-so-thin veil left that was camouflaging my true feelings unleashed.
“People who are abused like that cannot leave,” I stated … but it probably came out as more of a threatening counterpoint … “They are not thinking logically, because the abuser has robbed all sense of logic and common sense from those they abuse! Therefore, you cannot apply logic to an abused person’s actions and then refuse to acknowledge their abused past! You cannot leave abused individuals so defenseless like that in court!” I affirmed, while nearly shouting and standing.
“Ok, you are getting too emotional in this Abby, how would you know an abused individual’s thought process?” he questioned.
“Because I have been abused verbally, emotionally, and physically in a relationship before, and an abused individual cannot just leave.” I replied without missing a beat.
Silence suffocated the classroom, no one was looking at their cell phone, and all eyes were on me, stunned at my confession.
Without my permission, tears began to drizzle down my cheeks.
Finally after what felt like hours, my professor stated, “Why don’t we all take a five-minute break?”
Hearing my release I sprinted to the restroom to compose myself. Please God, please help me. And he’s right, I am too emotional, I am too emotional to answer a question for goodness sakes! Wiping mascara smears and evidence of hurt from my face, I prayed over and over again.
Refusing to make eye contact with anyone, I walked myself back to my seat tentatively using my computer as a physical and mental shield from my professor.
After passing out a few handouts and graded papers, I almost cried sweet tears of joy when he excused us all from class 20 minutes early.
Gathering my belongings as quickly as I could I nearly sprinted to my car, not caring that it was raining, to let myself cry it out uninterrupted in peace.
Despite the fact that the entire week and day was emotionally exhausting, I still had a right to feel angry and hurt from my professor’s statements. He was sexist and insensitive, even though he might not have meant to do so.
What nipped at my heart the most though, was wondering if his opinion of me, being too emotional, was a poor quality as he indicated. I was questioning my personality and mindset beyond classroom presentations, but to every other aspect of my life as well: What if I’m too emotional to be a stable mother? What if I am to emotional to hold a full-time job like everyone else? How can he think that about abused individuals? Is it because I was abused at one time that I am too emotional?
Of course, I now know that I was overthinking and overanalyzing as a result of a stressful week and day, but I had also allowed that negativity of the world to slip into my mind and make me question myself.
It was when I was driving home that I remembered my favorite quote; the wisdom and love Zooey Deschanel shared with me.
Dear reader, please remain as the beautiful and extraordinary person God made you as regardless of what the world says or wants you to believe. There will be people and events that will make you doubt, question, or even dislike yourself, but do not let it become your framework for how you see yourself and how God sees you. I am an incredibly emotionally sensitive person, and that’s a gift from God I never want to relinquish. Yes, I am quite sensitive as a person, regardless of my gender or sexuality.
And despite the “B-grade” I received on my presentation, I would not have presented my research any other way, because I am passionate and proud of it.
So please, listen to Zooey Deschanel and follow her advice with all of your heart, allow yourself to feel and respond with your heart unaffected by others. Do not let others steal the genuine joy and emotions you feel. Do not let any one make you feel badly for the beautiful gifts God has blessed you with, and never forget that you are, and will always be, beautiful and extraordinary no matter what Facebook, your report card, or others say.
