I’m not going to call this gifted kid burnout which I think is often just a symptom of the popping of the bubble of people’s confused delusions of grandeur because they didn’t realize that gifted education programs are at best a way of giving specialized and individualized education, and at worst a way of achieving legal segregation in schools.
Not to brag, but my therapist who specialized in EMDR therapy for treating people with trauma told me that I had the most difficult childhood of anyone she had ever treated. It was also filled with beauty and I was encouraged in my many skills and pursuits early on, but the inner rot of compounded repeated traumas, keeping secrets, and hiding my suffering eventually took hold.
I was always a good student but as things at home intensified I cared less and less. A teacher noticed this and tried to take advantage of my vulnerable state. This made matters more complicated for me because still to this day he’s my favorite teacher that I ever had; he taught me much of what I know about writing and helped me to develop my skills.
After that, I spent my time in school just coasting along, putting in the minimal amount of effort to no fail. I had no goals or ambition. After graduation, I flitted from service job to service job. I started seeing my therapist and thinking about what I actually wanted to do.
I realized I had one exceptional skill which could be monetized to my advantage and I threw myself into it, grinding to make a living and improve my station in life. This worked and I live in decent material comfort, but I’ve realized the lifestyle I always thought I wanted isn’t what I want at all, so I’m reevaluating that and beginning to explore what that looks like.
There are several different exciting paths of progression my career could take, but I’m also finally working on creative projects for the first time in about a decade, so I’m going to see where life takes me. My best friend tells me I should become certified as a yoga teacher, and going back to school to study psychology and become a therapist would also be tight. I would love to seek a second career.
It took me a long time to get here but I’m trying to actualize and find purpose… Something something Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.
May 26, 2024
Related Recs
🥽
Wow I just wanted to see if I could remember omg sorry for the novel
____
(1-3rd grade) First, I wanted to be a singer/actress combo. Very Hannah Montana inspired. I even made my mom take me to some scammy commercial audition in Philadelphia. Memorized this coco puffs script, and then at the end they just told us I would be a star, only if we signed up for their thousands of dollars of acting classes. LOL.
(3rd-5th grade) Then, I wanted to be a Doctor, a Pediatric Oncologist. My brother had cancer when we were kids, and I’d had medical jargon stuck in my head that I thought would impress adults around me.
(5th-6th grade) Then I had my astronaut phase. That realization that there’s literally nothing cooler. My dad also said he wanted to be an astronaut when he was a kid and I think that inspired this era.
(6-7th grade) Then, kinda major for me, I said I wanted to be an architect at these last day of 5th grade interviews. It was the first thing I could think of that merged art + ‘logistics’ for lack of a better world. And that intersection really intrigued me (foreshadowing).
(8-9th grade) Then, I wanted to be a Magazine Editor. I loved tween mags like Tigerbeat etc, but it was me getting into Vogue - being so inspired by Anna and the world around ‘The September Issue’. Think there was a documentary. My best friend wanted to be a fashion designer. These both came true for us 🥹
(10-12th grade) Then, I wanted to be some kind of corporate business woman. Era of romanticizing the title ‘CEO’.
(First year) Then, and now we’re in college, I wanted to be an ‘international laywer’ crossed with some sort of diplomat. Would have been pretty dope ngl and I loved my degree in IR. But an internship at a law firm turned me off of it and I realized no matter what I a) didn’t want to sit somewhere wishing time away And b) wanted to wear whatever I wanted at work.
(Second year) Then, I remember I told my finsta followers that I wanted to be ‘a creator’ in my career and not have to say anything else. Some sort of Kanye moment of mine.
(Third-Fourth year) Then, another monumental moment was a conscious notion of me saying to people that the career for me was something ‘I don’t know exists yet’. Whatever that era was really worked in my favor, sort of manifested falling into ‘Creative Strategy’ out of college which quite literally, I asked them in my interview what it was.
Loved that gig, am since working across a spectrum of Creative Direction, Production, + Editorial. I think little me would think I was super weird + also be rooting me on 🌹After I’ve wrung out all my creative juices, I also plan to go back to school to become a Therapist in my 60s/70s
2d ago
⏲️
As I grew up I always read stories of people accomplishing amazing things and world firsts. I’d read that some virtuosos started practicing at 10, some 11, some 12 etc etc, and with each year that I grew the amount of things I could start and become the best at slowly decreased.
Now I after a stint in chemical engineering I am studying psychology and I couldn’t be happier. My want for uniqueness and appraisal, shifted to a desire to be truly helpful to people and for that I am so greatful.
Oct 19, 2024
🎚
Not that anyone will care, but to understand me you have to understand this:
I was raised by Christian Protestant fundamentalists, the youngest of 4 by 10 years. Although I resent the church and the theology I desperately tried to make myself believe, I am grateful for their teachings of serving and loving others, even if they contradicted themselves when they told me to fear the evil nature of humanity.
I was named after my grandma, who lived with me for 11 years of my childhood and remained ever trusting and kind as she fell victim to dementia. By the time I was 8 my parents seemed to have tired from raising 4 kids and intensively caring for a 90 year old woman, and I was free to bike miles across town to the library unsupervised, and patch myself up when I fell and bled, and lock myself in my room to read every spare hour of the day. I would read while I ate breakfast, I would read while brushing my teeth, I would read and I wouldn’t hear it if someone called my name. I discovered the internet soon after and unfortunately the curiosities it offered won out over literature. When the internet taught me I wouldn’t live forever in heaven under the tree of life with Teddy Roosevelt and my grandpa, I was on my own to process and panic and pretend to pray.
My family came from Norway, across Canada, down to Northern Idaho to work in the lumber yards, and finally to Oregon when starvation wages hit the shop teachers. My mom grew up on elk tongue sandwiches and I was never allowed to leave a plate full.
I always struggled with friendships, not because people didn’t like me but because I have a tendency for isolating myself. The people I love most tend to be strange and upfront and vulnerable. And I do love my family, but more than anything I want to be independent and meet many strange and upfront people who will lead me to adventure. I am almost 20 and I am an artist. I have no tattoos and I am reckoning with my potential.
Feb 28, 2025
Top Recs from @taterhole
My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌
Feb 23, 2025
May 28, 2025
🖐
I’ve been thinking about how much of social media is centered around curating our self-image. When selfies first became popular, they were dismissed as vain and vapid—a critique often rooted in misogyny—but now, the way we craft our online selves feels more like creating monuments.
We try to signal our individuality, hoping to be seen and understood, but ironically, I think this widens the gap between how others perceive us and who we really are. Instead of fostering connection, it can invite projection and misinterpretation—preconceived notions, prefab labels, and stereotypes. Worse, individuality has become branded and commodified, reducing our identities to products for others to consume.
On most platforms, validation often comes from how well you can curate and present your image—selfies, aesthetic branding, and lifestyle content tend to dominate. High engagement is tied to visibility, not necessarily depth or substance. But I think spaces like PI.FYI show that there’s another way: where connection is built on shared ideas, tastes, and interests rather than surface-level content. It’s refreshing to be part of a community that values thoughts over optics.
By sharing so few images of myself, I’ve found that it gives others room to focus on my ideas and voice. When I do share an image, it feels intentional—something that contributes to the story I want to tell rather than defining it. Sharing less allows me to express who I am beyond appearance.
For women, especially, sharing less can be a radical act in a world where the default is to objectify ourselves. It resists the pressure to center appearance, focusing instead on what truly matters: our thoughts, voices, and authenticity. I’ve posted a handful of pictures of myself in 2,500 posts because I care more about showing who I am than how I look.
In trying to be seen, are we making it harder for others to truly know us? It’s a question worth considering.
Dec 27, 2024