On being … a never-ending voyage
By Ingrid Sapona
You get to a certain age and you think you know yourself pretty well, right? Well, I’ve always thought I knew myself, but sometimes the simplest questions leave me at a loss. For example, until recently, I couldn’t have answered told you what kind of movies I like. I realized this over the summer when a few of us were talking about what we’re watching on tv. One person mentioned something on Netflix and when it didn’t ring a bell with any of us, he described it. When he said it had some time travel in it, without skipping a beat, another friend chimed in: “Oh, I love movies with time travel.” I thought that admission was funny, but at the same time, I was glad no one asked me what kinds of movies I like.
The truth is, I never really gave any thought to the kinds of movies I like. I have a few favourites, of course, for example, White Christmas and The Way We Were. But these certainly don’t fall into a “category” (unless sentimental is a genre). I went home wondering if there’s something wrong with me that I couldn’t immediately identify the kinds of movies I like. I could easily reel off genres I avoid: anything sci-fi, scary, violent, or dystopian. Eventually that night I realized there’s a genre I do gravitate toward: spy stories – though not the James Bond kind – stuff like Three Days of the Condor. (I know, maybe I should just say I’m drawn to movies starting Robert Redford, but that’s not really a genre – it’s more of a crush.)
Another simple thing I hadn’t identify until my 20s was a favourite colour. It wasn’t until university that I realized how much I like purple (deep purple, to be exact). In my own defense, growing up in the 60s and 70s when people talked about purple, they usually meant lilac, or heaven forbid, mauve – both of which I’ve never liked. So, I really never gave purple a thought. Then, at university, purple and white were my alma mater’s colours. The dark purple was both warm and cheery. And, in law school I learned purple’s the designated colour for law and jurisprudence and from then on there was no denying it’s my favourite colour.
I had another colour revelation recently when I went shopping for a new outfit. I found a pair of pants (a black/white print) that were nice and I wanted a top to go with it. The sales person brought me a top in a style that was nice and she mentioned they had it in a number of solid colours. When I went to look, I was immediately taken with the fuchsia. The I loved the colour, but was it me?
The truth is, I’ve always been drawn to bright pink, but it took me a long time to even admit that. If you’re having a hard time imagining the colour, I may as well call it by its pop name: Barbie Pink. (It’s actually Pantone® 219C, if you’re curious) I think I’ve always been embarrassed to own up to liking Barbie Pink because the colour is so strongly associated with girlie-girls. (I certainly don’t fit the Wikipedia description of a girlie-girl: a woman who presents herself in a traditionally feminine way.)
While I didn’t feel funny about choosing hot pink bath towels, just because you like a colour doesn’t mean you should wear it, right? The thing about Barbie Pink clothing is it’s pretty hard to bend in when you’re wearing it. Indeed, that may be part of the draw for some – but it’s not for me. Finally, after WAY too much debate, I ended up getting the fuchsia top. It looks fabulous with the black and white pants and besides, I figured, one look at my sneakers and everyone’ll know that I’m not a Barbie wanna-be.
They say that one of the good things about getting older is that you’re more willing to be yourself. Being myself hasn’t really ever been much of a problem for me, but what has surprised me about getting older is how much there is yet to discover about myself. And the nice thing about growing old is that I have more time to learn about my (hidden) likes and perhaps a few (hidden) judgements – like about who wears what colours!
What about you? Any surprise discoveries about yourself –
maybe about some of your tastes changing, or perhaps things you now more freely
admit to than you once might have?
© 2024 Ingrid Sapona
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