Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [22]
I asked about alcohol and drugs.
“I think they’re stupid. I would never consider them.”
“What if you were pressured to use them at a party?”
“I’d say, ‘You do what you want, I’ll do what I want.’ ” She laughed. “And then I’d leave the party.”
She knew some kids who drank, but none of her close friends did yet. I asked about sexual harassment. Lori scratched the top of her head. “Some of my friends have been hassled, but I haven’t yet. I know who to avoid. There’s this certain hall that I don’t walk down.”
We talked about dating, a subject Lori had carefully considered. She didn’t want to date until she was in high school and even then, not seriously. She believed that sex comes with marriage. I asked her how she felt about the music and movies that show teenagers having casual sex. Lori said, “I turn that stuff off. I don’t have time for TV anyway. With music, I don’t pay attention to the words.”
I said, “It sounds like you screen out things that upset you.”
Lori agreed. “Not everything, but things I can’t change.”
Lori lit up when we talked about dance. She was proud that her teacher had recently moved her into an advanced class. She liked-swimming too, and believed that all the exercise helped her manage stress. “I work out almost every day.”
Although she admitted that they could be embarrassing in public, she loved her parents. She felt her dad was too skinny and her mom was overly friendly. She said that just lately her mom had been getting on her nerves. She wanted more privacy than she used to. But still she loved Sunday nights when the family had Cokes, apples and popcorn, and played cards or watched a movie.
I asked about career goals. She liked dance but suspected it was not a practical career. Lori was proud of her writing and thought she’d like a career in journalism. She had already had an article published in her school’s newsletter, and she’d interviewed a reporter for a class project.
Lori showed me out, her star earrings flashing. Lisa was practicing on the new grand piano as we left. Her mother sat beside her turning the pages of a Clementi sonatina. Her dad read the newspaper nearby.
I thought about Lori as I drove home. She seemed to be holding on to her true self miraculously well. She was social, but not overly awed by popularity. She chose to be with friends rather than have a mentor, but she still made straight As. She had kept all her prepuberty interests: singing, dancing, swimming and acting. She was relaxed about her appearance and didn’t worry about her weight. Even though she was slightly embarrassed by her parents, she still loved them and enjoyed spending time with them.
Lori was independent and funny. She made conscious choices about sex, drugs and alcohol. In fact, she made conscious choices about everything. She looked within herself for guidance and answers. Lori already had sorted her experience into what she could and couldn’t control, and she knew how to screen out what was beyond her control. She had a sense of who she was and an orientation toward the future. Though she certainly might change her mind about journalism, the fact that she had a goal demonstrated that her life was not all lived in the moment.
Lori was so well rounded and mentally healthy that I pondered how to explain it. She was extraordinarily lucky. She inherited a cheerful, energetic personality. She was pretty, smart, musical and athletic. Her parents were loving and protective, but not overly protective or demanding. She lived in a relatively safe and prosperous neighborhood surrounded by stable families. And she’d managed to