Flipping the Script

Like most kids, I grew up wanting to be the smartest, most interesting, and most sought-after person in the room. I lived a lot of my childhood in this mindset. The spotlight was something to strive for, a secret desire propelling me forward.

I saw what others around me could do and I made efforts to excel at those same things: Academics, sports, tons of friendships. Try as I might, I rarely spent time in the spotlight.

But my seat on the sidelines also afforded me a different perspective, and I saw what others around me lacked. This is where the story changes.

I had friends who were very smart, but they liked to make others around them feel stupid. [We all know them, right?] Other friends had mediocre grades but were a ton of fun to be around. And of course there were the simultaneously fun and intelligent groups that sat in the middle of the balance. All of this, the ugly, the bad, and the good, were all crammed into my headspace when I was a kid, competing for their voices to be heard.

And then one day, as an adult, it occurred to me: If I think I’m the smartest person in the room, I’m no longer learning, no longer striving, and even: I’m no longer humble enough to know I need to grow. I came to realize if I’m the smartest person in the room I need to be in a different room.

Sometimes you’ve got to make a change. When you can’t change things outwardly, change your perspective. Flip the script. I can’t travel to the past and grant myself a wish of a childhood spotlight. (Or can I? Writers can create just about anything.) But if I’d had my wish back then, I wouldn’t have spent time observing how all the dynamics came together. Those observations are what find their way into my writing more often than not. Inside the stories, being me, I can cast the spotlight wherever I want.