It’s not often I remember quotes from books, but there are a couple that resonate with me. Usually, the only ones that captivate my mind are the ones that make me laugh — thank you, Molly Weasley.
It’s rare that I can recall a quote that elicits a sense of introspection. However, like many others, Jane Austen was able to bring me to a sense of contemplation, specifically asking me when I realized who I was. When did I have my Elizabeth Bennet self-discovery moment?
I mulled over this thought for many days. For weeks, I sat and pondered what times could be considered defining points in my life.
Obviously, the first one that came to mind was the first friendship breakup I experienced. I think we can all collectively agree that losing a friend is one of the worst feelings, especially when you’re in middle school and the dramatics of it rival Gossip Girl.
At 12 years old, I got in a fight with my best friend, and of course, cruel words were exchanged. Obviously, her words stung, and I convinced myself the world as I knew it was coming to an end. And for a little while, it did. I wasn’t really sure of my place at school anymore, and I didn’t know whose lunch table to sit at.
I struggled with heavy feelings for an extended period of time, but in the end, I didn’t really have my “aha” moment like Elizabeth did. I didn’t wake up one morning and tell myself, “Yasmine, you’re actually not a witch.”
My wounds slowly disappeared, and I shoved her words so far down memory lane I was eventually able to pretend like they never existed. But, again, I can’t pinpoint the presence of a turning point that made me realize that I knew who I was.
The next event I considered was my high school graduation, which arguably lessened how much I thought I knew myself. The person I was before I walked the stage was the same person who walked off the stage, which was disappointing, to say the least.
I was so sure that my “aha” moment would come the second I had my diploma and I was done with high school. As I flipped my tassel, I am sure that even the audience could tell I was disappointed I didn’t have an Elizabeth Bennet revelation.
At 23 years old, I am no more sure of myself now than I was as a young teenager. After many sleepless nights, teary phone calls with my parents, and long conversations with my siblings, I have learned it’s okay to struggle with knowing who you are. There is no expiration date for that lesson.
While Elizabeth Bennet was extremely lucky to figure this out and have been exposed to that turning point, I am unsure if I will ever be.
Personally, I am starting to believe it might just not exist for everyone. It’s entirely possible that the culmination of all my experiences has given me the tools to eventually realize who I am. But, a single event that triggers the feeling of knowing who you are might not exist for everyone.
As we change and grow, knowing who we are in a world full of lessons to learn can become so much more difficult. Yet, it is through these experiences that the road to self-discovery becomes evidently more clear.
I am going to embrace this journey of growth and navigate through life’s complexities, knowing that in the back of my mind, Elizabeth Bennet’s story was fictional, and my “aha” moment is as likely as Mrs. Bennet ceasing her matchmaking efforts.