First rays of light

A little bit different ...

Even as a child, I’ve always felt a little different from everyone else. From the first attempts at writing a book (which consisted of six small pages of scrawling text), to “fabricating” little musical harps with stiff cardboard frames and rubber band strings (the harps were then distributed to my friends who didn’t appreciate the thoughtfulness and time spent on them as much as I had hoped – much to my despair), to reading the stock quotes page of the newspaper (having no idea what any of it really meant, just that a price with '+' next to it was good, while a price with a '--' next to it was bad). Yeah, looking back on my childhood, I was not a “typical” kiddo.

 

Kiddo-me grew up very curious. I always asked myself questions like, “why do I think this?”, “Why is that person like that?”, “Why does this thing work the way it does?” Most of these little attempts at discovery were kept to myself because no one else seemed to ask these same questions – I already felt disjointed enough. Kiddo-me was also very emotionally sensitive. I deeply loved all of my friends and the adults in my life, but spent much of my life feeling that the love I had for others was never reciprocated fully. I was also overwhelmed with interests. From growing cactus, to playing the piano, to taking karate, to taking saxophone lessons, Kiddo-me always had too much to do and not enough time. At one point, I remember reading Ben Carson’s book Gifted Hands and deciding that I wanted to be a pediatric brain surgeon. With so much I wanted to do, it dawned on me that I would have more time for daydreaming and planning if I didn’t spend so much time on pesky school-work. 

 

Fast-forward to present day. In many ways, I’m still the same person – only now, everything is magnified. I want to be an engineer in various fields, a doctor, an architect, a musician, a dancer, a construction worker, a multilingual world traveler, a stock-broker, a teacher, a college professor, an airline pilot, … I could go on. Common sense tells me that not all of these goals will, or can, be realized in one lifetime. I still feel despair that others around me don’t feel the same curiosity about the world that I do. I still feel disconnected, lonely, and unloved.

"Maybe you're a little gifted..."

Recently, a dear friend mentioned that she thought I may be a little gifted. Initially, I wasn’t sure what this meant – I admit that I am a fairly talented person, but my mantra has been a quote from Albert Einstein, “I am neither especially clever nor especially gifted. I am only very, very curious.” It seems that Einstein felt that he was more misunderstood than gifted – the same way I feel.  I’ve never felt any more gifted than anyone else, just that I was more willing to apply myself than most.

After having my insatiable curiosity piqued by the suggestion that perhaps I was a little gifted, I did what any normal person would do (I’m joking), I combed the internet to gain a complete and thorough understanding of what “gifted” meant. What are the characteristics? What are the strengths? What are the weaknesses? How do gifted adults function? The answers to these questions left me ecstatic, happy, depressed, hopeless, excited, and overwhelmed … 

 

After browsing several websites and reading a couple of scientific papers, I felt as if I were looking in a mirror. The image reflected back at me was that of my deepest self. A smile came across my face when I read about the cognitive traits of gifted people; tears came when I read about their emotional intensity; and my “Eureka” moment came when I read about their need to be continually engaged in meaningful activities. In one of the papers I read, there was a list of thirty-seven questions to ask one’s self. If 75% of the questions fit you, then the paper stated that you are probably a gifted adult. How many questions of the thirty-seven did I identify with? Thirty-six – and I didn’t understand the one I left unmarked.

Even now, I certainly don’t feel gifted and I’m very uncomfortable implying that I am. I do feel as if I understand myself much better now than I did. However, I am still filled with mixed emotions; I’m a little more proud of who I am, but I also feel devastated that I’m going to be like this for the rest of my life. Am I always going to feel disconnected from everyone? Am I always going to feel as if the friends/family that I love deeply only marginally care about me? Will I always feel as though I have to choose between smothering those I care about and keeping my emotions to myself? Will I always be easily bored with my career if I’m not doing “cutting-edge” stuff? Where's the value in being this way?

Now what?

My new mission in life is to leverage my newly acknowledged strengths into productive avenues. It is an addendum to my existing mission, which is to add value to the lives of people around me, to build meaningful relationships, and to make others smile, laugh, or feel good. As for the weaknesses, I don’t know whether to mitigate, suppress, or express them. This entire process of self-discovery has proven to be mentally and emotionally draining to me … and there are miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.