When I Was Bulletproof

You know how the complaint goes:

I never had guidance. I lacked people to teach me how to adult. I wasn’t taught how to grow up.

It’s the Young Adult Bulletproof Syndrome, as it were.

Back in my early 20s, I was bulletproof. Fail proof to the point of lying to myself on every learning opportunity I faceplanted into.

I knew better back then.

I’m closing in on 40 now and boy was I wrong.

I know what you’re thinking. How could one be so delusional?

I mean, the learning material is out there right?

Books, guides, videos, experiments…

But every once in a while a know-it-all whippersnapper comes along, believing all common knowledge to be incorrect.

Believing that learning from experience is a flawed concept, because the initial assumption is that people are never as smart as one is.

So I spent the better part of my early 20s refusing to learn (unbeknownst to me, naturally), wanting to collect my own empirical data. My experiences would surely be different. Thus, my conclusions would be far more advanced from everyone else’s, because I was smarter than everybody else

My mom said so.

And they WERE. I created my own experiences. Wrote my own mantras. Learned from my own mistakes!

…only to find out they were eerily similar to what had already been written, studied, and concluded since humanity could record their thoughts.

Come to find out, one is not bulletproof. One does not know more than everyone else. One is not smarter. One is definitely not a unique fucking snowflake.

Sheesh…why didn’t anyone tell me this before?

Oh wait, they did, fired into my head little little bullets of truth.

But I was bulletproof.

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