What I learned from the most brilliant person I have ever met.
When I first met her, I met her in a past life regression. She was a purple pant wearing blondie on the back of motorcycle. Somehow I knew she would change my life.
She is a legit genius. Harvard admission, witty, athlete, natural good looks, photographic memory, polymath, the ability to learn anything in minutes. The cleverest person I have ever met.
Yet, that hasn’t brought her all the happiness.
She works for less than my freelancers at an aging interior studio surrounded by old Trump-loving men instead of fulfilling her Harvard MD dreams. She hasn’t moved anywhere exciting. Her German is getting rusty, her Latin bored. She isn’t getting a master’s, or doctorate. She has no career future with this company, except to serve them. They never give raises and certainly don’t pay for health insurance or a 401k. So what gives? Why stay? Was it passion? No, not that either.
Every day with her was an endless stream of complaints of minutiae, health, love and the act of being it seemed. Just filling up gas and holding the pump to the car because the valve was faulty was a huge deal.
To me, she was brilliant; she had things I had only written down on lists to cultivate: wits, smarts, mastery of a skill and language. She could work anywhere, in any city, and be successful, admired, probably even famous; yet instead I watched her try to mush herself into an ordinary existence attending circuses of weddings and dresses all summer with friends who didn’t really understand how bright she was. She knew I knew, and I could hardly stand it and sent her job posting after job posting.
I left a few years ago and as far as I know she still sits in her ancient desk throne adorned with foreign pens, looking into a screen of the computer she built herself and building things for an alcoholic art director. The queen bee in a dying studio hive, all of that potential locked into a lifestyle that doesn’t permit it.
I sincerely hope that she has what she wants, but based on our time together, it didn’t seem like it. It made me realize everyone has their battles, even those whom I thought had everything, except the will to choose their own happiness because it might introduce change and risk.
Because of her, I could see her future in our field and decided if that was as good as it got for someone that smart- I needed something else. Night after night I dreamed Trump won the election in 2015, something that seemed impossible, and decided I needed more money, more chances to travel, and that I wasn’t ready for a pensioner lifestyle with a robot vacuum and barely making ends meet.
I changed fields to UX UI. I got away from right wing talkers. I doubled my income, got a nicer laptop and moved to a different country. I think about her from time to time, and thank her for showing me everything that I wasn’t- and forcing me to use the two good cards I have- low risk aversion and knowing I deserve happiness.
