Pavlov's dog and not learning French
Woof woof amiright
When I was in high school, we used to have French lessons in the room next door to Food Tec. This meant that the room always, always smelled like onions. 5 years of this association had a Pavlov’s Dog effect which - I like to believe - is partly why I haven’t continued learning French in adulthood. Even though I would really like to. Even though I once got a 300-day streak on Duolingo.
Sometimes, even now, I can smell onions when I watch Emily in Paris. Is it fair to blame my lack of a second language on the orientation of my High School back in the mid-00s?
A random girl I met in the smoking area of Hi in Ibiza last year recently posted on Instagram that she had bought a flat in London. On a teacher’s salary. More and more of my friends are moving abroad. Lots are replacing renting for homeownership. Some are getting married and having kids.
I try not to think of these things TOO often but it is hard, and getting harder, to measure life by what I ‘have’ when the list of what I ‘don’t have’ is, by society’s standard, getting longer by the day. The big question about children aside - I’ve been a fully-fledged adult for a decade. Should I have more to show for it by now?
From time to time I wake up in the middle of the night in a sweaty panic that I don’t have a pension. Can you believe that? I actually do not have one. And while we’re here - I don’t really have savings either. I made a clerical error with my taxes last year that wiped the whole lot out. I know it’s weird to talk about money but imagine having a carefully curated £10k one day, and having to send it all to HMRC the next. Just imagine.
And the thing about making big life decisions is that there’s no going back. You can’t unhave the baby. Can’t not make that bad financial decision about a falling apart house. Everyone bangs on about their 20s as this big period of upheaval and choices, but it’s my thirties that have hit the hardest. Smacked me in the face while I was watching television. Am I doing enough? Am I going to be ok?
Despite all of this, despite the evidence stacking up against it, I realised the other day that I couldn’t remember ever being happier than I am right now. No demanding friendships, or family issues, no demands on my time at all really besides the obvious need to make money. Days spent mostly solo, wandering around London enjoying the seasons and sending funny comments to my favourite Whatsapp groups. Weekends of pubs and pizzas and bingeing TV.
A woman I met at a freelancing mixer did a My Human Design reading on me. If you’re unfamiliar, it’s a bit like a horoscope on steroids. Lots of what she said resonated, but one thing she noticed really landed with me. “You’re very difficult to influence. If you don’t want to, you won’t”. Then last night, in my writing class, we were asked to write about what it would feel like to be truly free. And I spent ages trying to imagine it. What would it be like? And I realised: I already feel free.
So. Do you see what I’m saying? It’s about the way our brains can latch onto things without us even knowing. Like how five years of French class next to a kitchen turned the smell of onions into my eternal “non” to language learning. Years of absorbing culture and watching my peers led me to think there was something missing - some struggle I should be striving towards.
Just like Pavlov’s dog, I’ve been gently trained to believe there’s something wrong because the societal life markers aren’t yet present in my life. But when I take a step back and look at the good stuff, it doesn’t feel that way at all. Not really. Not to me.