On Being an Acquired Taste
Why the right people won’t care
BY DEVNA PANDA
When I first came to the University of Minnesota, I felt a distinct sense of withdrawal from my hometown and the people I had grown up around. Though I was craving this chance to establish a new life, I was simultaneously mourning the familiarity of my old life. Even still, I was focused on building a life that is wholly curated to who I am. I wanted to (and still want to) become someone who is fully rooted in themself and the world around them.
Admittedly, during my first week of college, I was a bit disappointed by my circumstances; I was not swept up by the magic and adventure of college, despite my best efforts to pretend I was. The kids around me – though they were incredibly nice and genuine people – seemed to have different ideas of fun and humor than what I had envisioned for myself.
The overwhelming emotion I felt was envy. How could these kids have been lucky enough to live on the same floor of the same dormitory at the same university in the same metropolitan city in the same Midwestern state in the same country on the same god-forsaken planet? They had lived such similar lives, from having comparable religious upbringings to enjoying the same niche aspects of pop culture, and they had stumbled upon each other. I wanted to find and to be found by this type of connection.
By observing their interactions, I could tell that they were at home with each other, free to be themselves. Meanwhile, I felt like I was floundering– searching for this type of friendship.
For the first month or so of my freshman year, I continued to feel this way. I had begun meeting other people with whom I saw stronger friendship potential, but I was still spending the majority of my free time with the kids on my floor. I started feeling pressure to conform – to make similar jokes or try my best to participate in the activities they enjoyed doing together. It didn’t require much inward reflection to realize that I wanted different things out of my college experience. Every moment spent with them was an exacted effort to portray myself in alignment with their dynamic. I couldn’t help but reflect with jealousy on the fact that my floor mates didn’t seem to have to think about what they said or did around each other – it was the difference between merely moving through the world and watching yourself move through the world.
After a few weeks of this experience, I knew nothing would change unless I took the initiative to change it. So, I began focusing on the relationships that I wanted to cultivate, people with whom I could just be.
One full year later, I have come to understand the value of following your intuition and being okay with not being exactly where you want to be. After giving myself the opportunity to focus on the relationships I wanted to see flourish, I have developed the connections and had the experiences I had been searching for. So many of the insecurities that I have around people with whom I don’t feel comfortable disappear when I spend time with the people who allow me to be myself. The lesson I’ve learned is to practice patience – things may not immediately fall into place, but it will eventually become clear to you why your life is unfolding as it is.