Yesterday, I was out at breakfast with my mother when she said something that, frankly, insulted me.
I don’t remember exactly what she said, but she implied that Outlander and Harry Potter were merely phases, as if I would move on to something else soon. She probably feels the same about my other fandoms as well, but I changed the subject because I couldn’t think of anything to say to what she’d just said.
And they are phases, in a sense. Phases of my life. I turn to certain books, movies, and what have you to help me cope with whatever I am currently going through. But if something really means a lot to me, it’s not some kind of fad. Why would I want to read Harry Potter in Spanish if the books didn’t mean something to me? That is definitely more than a phase, if you ask me.
I’ll do you one better. Why would I keep writing about Rachel Platten or different Spanish-speaking artists just for the fun of it? I don’t think I would. I’ve explained multiple times how important Rachel Platten is to me. She’s not fading into obscurity any time soon. And Spanish music is important to me as well. It’s a way – along with reading Harry Potter, of course – to keep Spanish fresh in my brain. I will get around to speaking it more eventually, because my goal is to be fluent.
I really don’t know what else to say. I could try and explain how I feel until I’m blue in the face, but I have a feeling that won’t get me anywhere. Besides, it doesn’t really matter anyway. All I can do is reach my personal goals and make myself happy, because I don’t have to answer to anyone else. For some reason, I seem to have trouble remembering that this is my life, and I can do what I want with it, no matter what anyone else says.
