C h a o s

What is something you disliked in the past, but now like?

As a child, I was a bonafide neat freak. I had a designated place for everything, from food on my plate to my matchbox cars. I couldn't fathom the idea of leaving belongings where they stood; if it was out of place, I went out of my way to ensure it eventually did. My perfectionism was so apparent that it became a meme in my family to mess with me by reorganizing the layout of room. Some days a painting on the wall had been replaced, other days the clock had been rotated a few degrees. I often came back from school not noticing the subtle change, but after a few minutes realized something was off and frantically searched for the misplaced item, hoping to attain relief from the horror of existing in an unorganized room. It got so bad that once I came home to a room in which nothing had changed, but still felt paranoid and wasted the whole afternoon looking for a fault that didn't exist . Looking back, I realize my attempts to achieve perfection were futile.

If you could describe one point in my life where I u-turned, I would definitely point you towards my 8th grade year. Between cross country practices and my responsibilities as a tutor, for the first time I would arrive home well past 7 on the daily. My typical weekday revolved around school, running, tutoring, dinner, homework, and sleep. I didn't have the time or energy to be nitpicky and try to uphold my sense of perfectionism. Although minuscule at first, chaos laid siege to the foundations of my flawless castle.

I eventually succumbed to chaos, letting myself be messy and lose track of anything and everything. Now in high school, my schedule didn't get any less busier; in fact, it became more rigorous. My classes only became harder and homework heavy, requiring me to devote even more time to keep up with the material. Between my academic and social life, it was impossible to keep my things in order, let alone those around the house that I so diligently sought to keep pristine in my childhood. Papers littered my desk, clothes sprawled on the floor, my belongings strewn across the house in unimaginable places - this was my life now. 

In the end, I got used to my new friend chaos, but now it's gotten to the point I can't do without it. In someway it actually gives me a sense of organization. From your perspective, my desk may look like a jumble of papers, but to me, every paper exists in the perfect, yet delicate balance. My room: a maze, but to me, every object is in its rightful place. Instead of experiencing paranoia from my parents disorganizing the organized, now I fear the day my parents organize the disorganized.