During the 24 years of walking on this planet, I surely had to discover a lot of things about myself. And (apart from realising every now and then how ridiculous some of my wardrobe choices were) I mainly got to know two things. First: I simply cannot be bitchy. Even a bit, even when I really need to be. Second: I find it super hard to accept compliments. I just can't believe they are true. I might not seem horrendously self-conscious at first, but it's more than possible that whenever it comes to self criticism, I'm going to think I did a shit job. It's always been like this. Everyone knows that. My friends are so used to that situation that they sometimes have to shout at me with some nice words to boost my confidence so we can all go back to living our happy lives. Lately though, I discovered something about myself that might be ruining my steady position as a deer/rabbit (or any overly modest creature) in the system called life. Something that actually makes me turn into a furious lioness ready to fight. Calling me a nerd. The moment of realisation came to me with a slightly innocent situation. I was casually sharing my deep thoughts about "The Force Awakens" with my boyfriend when he jokingly said that "talking to me is like watching an episode of Big Bang Theory". I could have just accepted that and go back to my long dispute, but I asked why. The answer was: "Well, the topic is a bit… nerdy". Curiosity killed the cat. I know that he meant nothing wrong. But I couldn't help but feel in the position where I had to defend myself. And I thought I might aswell share it with you.
I've always had a thing for films with a great adventure. I blame Harrison Ford for that. I watched Indiana Jones when I was 6 and it had me on it's first seconds. It made remembering history facts a lot more fun. And because I was travelling since I can remember, it made my own travels feel almost as exciting as his (in less heroic and more absurd way). Indy, next to Toy Story's Woody and Polish piano artist called Grzegorz Turnau, became my childhood hero. So it's not surprising that when I first watched "A New Hope" a few years later, it changed my world almost as much. It was something completely different. It was both fun and dark. It was gripping. Exciting. Literally out of this world (pardon the pun). And since that moment, Star Wars became an inseparable part of my life. I remember spending all my pocket money on the promo posters of all the episodes one summer in Italy. I changed my nickname to Panna Vader ("panna" in Polish means "miss", so "Miss Vader"), that was just a clever variation of saying Princess Leia. And Han was the galactic version of Indiana Jones - I still wonder which one is more scruffy-looking. The fascination didn't leave me even in my adult life. I even wanted to name my radio show with a Star Wars related name at first. Star Wars was the love at first sight. And also the one that still lasts. I know how it sounds. I know you would call me a nerd and not feel bad about it too. But the main thing why I won't agree with being called like this is that whenever I hear the word, it brings me back to the middle school times. Through the years my self-preservation instinct might have created something called "the cool journalist pose", but when I think of the times when I was 13, it brings an uncomfortable shivers down my spine. Back then, the word "nerd" was not that popular, but being treated like one was my every day reality. I think I handled it better then than I would now. But even if I chose to ignore it, I could hear people laughing behind my back. Mostly girls. Somehow liking Star Wars made me an irrelevant person. Worse than them. Why would I be relevant with a hero like Han Solo? It seemed unacceptable then. Why? I still don't know. I also don't get why it's always Star Wars that seem to be a problem. You might have been a massive Harry Potter fan and be the most popular girl at school, but Star Wars disclassified you. It made you look like a boy. Not one of those cool tomboys you read about in books and envy their knowledge about football. It made you look like that boy in big glasses with a lot of zits and a mouse-best-friend in your pocket. Even if you had the nicest dresses, clean skin and never wore glasses. I don't think I'll ever get it. I think it would be easier to solve if Han actually shot first than answer this. I don't know if kids today have it easier. I don't think so. It's probably the only thing I'm not optimistic about. All I know is that thanks to some girls I couldn't find my own place for the whole three years. I treated high school as a blessing. I wonder if seeing those girls again would finally make me turn into Blair Waldorf. But I don't see them. Even when I come back to my hometown, where they all still live. They became irrelevant. They are not a part of my life anymore. And me? I'm still the same "nerd" as I was before. Slightly better dressed, but still don't see anything bad in enjoying sci-fi films. Duh, I still watch Star Wars every time it's on tv. I still use my old nickname. I still have tears in my eyes whenever I hear the theme song. I just wear more expensive lipstick. And I'm just as fine with who I am as I was back in middle school. But in the same way that Han asked to never tell him the odds, I kindly ask you to never call me a nerd. Or anyone. It's offensive. Remember - life is not like Big Bang Theory.
P.S. Obviously, my boyfriend has been forgiven very fast. He won me back with a Darth Vader mug and his attempts not to fall asleep while watching The Empire Strikes Back. That's true love.