Mirror-maker

Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.

-Oscar Wilde


Just like how That Guy is a Gigolo shows more about the observer than the observed. Just like how as Q mis-imagines Margo, he ends up finding himself. Just like blogging, I think. Everyday, all the time, we mis-imagine others and we learn more about ourselves. We never realize, or else, I haven’t. I am perhaps more guilty than Quentin Jacobsen himself of mis-imagining. Of romanticizing a person as more than a person. Of not realizing that others have fears and anxieties and insecurities just as I do. I am guilty. For the past five years I have seen myself as second best, as the one with the flaws beside the perfect, flawless people around me. But how wrong I was. My friends, my peers, everyone I had been mis-imagining are perhaps more flawed than myself. (But who I am to judge? I am certainly flawed and insecure. But so are they.)

This is me thanking John. Thanking Margo and Q and Lacey and Ben and Radar and Alaska and Lindsey and Pudge and Chip and Takumi and Lara and Colin and Hassan for teaching me things I never would’ve realized. There is no other way for me to say it; John Green has been the catalyst in my self-discovery and I have no idea how to thank him.

On Saturday, I chopped off more than half of my hair, and I have never felt more myself. The weight and worry is gone. I am afraid to jinx it, but here I am. Brenna, for real. I hope all goes well.


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