Coffee Talk
“I wonder if how people perceive you here versus at home makes you feel differently about yourself?”
Sarah’s words landed like a benevolent lightning bolt; a non-fatal jolt.
“We see you as a scholar and a good friend.”
Instead of deflecting her remark with the forcefield that deploys reflectively at the hint of a compliment, I did something rare for me. I sat in Esquires Coffee Shop at the Stratford Upon Avon train station, kept quiet, and let the thought osmose into my pores.
Finally, I told her: “That’s brilliant.”
Fun House
I fumble my way through a fun house hall of mirrors, catching myriad glimpses of myself at every turn. I recognise myself in a few of the reflections; others cackle at me from autumnal gourd-shaped heads or jiggle at me like giggly Sumo wrestlers. This array of distorted impostors makes it hard to pick out my true self. But, are they posers, or just different versions of Diane?
Jean-Paul Sartre put no mirrors in his play No Exit. His characters, trapped in a room together (hell is other people), could only see themselves reflected in each others’ eyes. Sarah’s insight made me wonder if there is even one “real me.” And to what extent others’ impressions of us influence our identity. Of course, we ourselves contribute in some way to others’ perceptions of us, so, like navigating British roundabouts, it’s complicated… And, how do we learn to rely more on our own internal compass to shield us from the slings and arrows of outrageous external opinions?
Transcontinental
Excepting the minimal difference in the rate of the passage of time that Einstein so eloquently elucidated, I am fairly certain that the transatlantic flights do not alter my chemical makeup. I am also pretty sure that the mirrors in Connecticut and Warwickshire function in precisely the same way. Yet I feel like a different person on each side of the pond.
In Westport I lug heavy baggage around with me, filled with T-shirts, baseball caps, and forehead signs that say - or shout:
EX-WIFE! These garments estop others, especially married couples, from including me in any plans that occur after 5pm and all weekend. They also render me a superfluous member of society.
FORMER PTA/SPORTS MOM! My membership to this cliquey club expired when my boys graduated from high school. The more years that elapse since they received their diplomas, the more obsolete I become. These, too, render me a superfluous member of society.
MOM! As my ex so astutely observed, every parent (but especially mothers) wake up one morning having turned mysteriously and inexplicably stupid and annoying overnight. It usually happens when offspring reach the early teen years, and lasts into their young adulthood. Or late adulthood. Or indefinitely. It results in an odd translation that occurs whenever we speak. If, for example, a stranger says: “Hey, do you have a jacket? It’s supposed to be chilly tonight,”my boys will hear: “Hey, do you have a jacket? It’s supposed to be chilly tonight.” If I ask the selfsame question, they hear: “Hey, you are an incompetent child who does not know how to dress properly and clearly lacks the ability to check the weather app that everyone else does.” Bottom line? My existence irritates them. Especially if I open my mouth. And they react accordingly.
I leave that paraphernalia home when I travel to Stratford Upon Avon. Instead, I wear my MA, SHAKESPEARE STUDIES ‘18 T-shirt. Or the CURIOUS/FRIENDLY EXPAT cap. I don’t annoy anyone there (at least not that I’m aware of - maybe the Brits are just too polite), and people seem to hear and see me. They invite me out and ask to get together.
Revision
With all due respect to Jean-Paul, I might take a stab at revising his play. Or at least reinterpreting it to make my self-perception more balanced and accurate. I would re-title it, Exit, or perhaps Emergency Exit, to better reflect my own reality. I still believe we need others’ impressions of us as an important feedback loop. I want to know if I’m acting like an asshole, or if I have spinach in my teeth. But just as we don’t rely exclusively on one food group to sustain us, I might change up my diet and look inside more often to nourish my sense of self. And, I will return often to have coffee with Sarah at Esquires.