XAVIER BOATNER
campus editor
xavier.boatner@my.tccd.edu
Being a young adult in 2023 is confusing, and as a result, lots of people may prefer to find some sort of solace in their own safe spaces.
When the going gets tough, people tend to go to a place that makes them feel comfortable. Whether that comfort is achieved by reading a favorite book, watching a favorite show or movie, playing a favorite game or indulging in a favorite food, everyone has a special retreat.
This is normal of course, and it’s a valid and usually reliable way to feel safer from the harsh realities of the state of the world at large or just a hectic personal life. But in the end, I feel like it’ll only do more harm than good, specifically depending on the kind of comfort people are taking solace in.
For me, when the going gets tough, I go where no one else can: my head.
And for the most part, it’s usually pretty great! Until it isn’t. So much daylight has been wasted while I’m held prisoner in my own fantasy world of “could haves,” “would haves,” “should haves” and “can be’s.” And it’s usually pretty great – sometimes.
With each passing day, the impact of growing up as a sheltered kid beats me over the head more and more, and it’s gotten to a point where I feel so uncertain of how life is supposed to play out. There are so many days – too many days – where all I can think to myself upon waking up is, “Am I doing this right?” And it’s so exhausting. It’s all so confusing.
That aside, why do people spend time in their heads to begin with? Chances are it’s complicated and different among different people (as many things are) so there’s no exact answer, but there are always underlying reasons as to why people may be feeling this way.
In my experience, the reasons I tend to gravitate toward when retreating to my “happy place” is because of societal pressures.
Growing up as a Black guy, I was under the impression that black boys were supposed to listen to certain music, dress a certain way, talk a certain way, look as tall as black NBA all-stars, be as funny and talkative as black comedians – and none of that was me.
I always felt like I came out wrong. I always thought that eventually, one day, I’d finally grow to be the kind of person I thought people expected me to be. But that day didn’t come. It hasn’t come. And after extensive research, I have concluded that it will not. Bummer.
That’s why I waste so much time in my mind. It’s a place where I don’t have to compare myself to others or feel guilty for existing. But that needs to stop. It’s not healthy. And it won’t accomplish anything in the long run.
This isn’t written to be the most deep, philosophical, world-shattering, universe-unraveling piece of work any undergrad has ever had the privilege of laying their precious little eyes on (or big eyes since The Collegian doesn’t discriminate), but instead just a little glimpse into the mind of some run-of-the-mill TCC student, desperately hoping that some other student may read this and relate and know that they aren’t alone.
