I’m fun.
But few people know about my Frosted Mini-Wheats side. They think I’m a plain dry Shredded Wheat. The large type you need almond milk in order to add flavour.
Few people understand me. I’m a serious person, and when I make a joke it causes confusion and uncomfortable nods. My humour isn’t offensive. It’s sarcastic. Blunt. Dry. Awkward.
In 1998, I met a counsellor at Red River College. Within one visit, he understood me. Our visits focused less on my marks and more on who I was and what I wanted out of life. Everyone deserves to have an experience like meeting a Tim Thurston. When I look back on our visits, they remind me of tapered down appointments between Sean Maguire and Will Hunting from “Good Will Hunting.”
He was that awesome. Our visits were sometimes two hours long. Tim didn’t think I was a plain Mini-Wheat. He knew the real me. Who wanted to be a writer, broadcaster, and a model. Who loathed business administration. Who had a crush on a DJ.
Tim died of a heart attack in 2000, and it hurt like hell. Because whenever I had a problem, I’d run to him. I was left with nowhere to run.
Tim learned the real me – and I’m grateful I stayed for my appointment. I was rising from my chair to leave when his door opened. He taught me valuable life lessons about “sailing my own ship,” and taking control of my life. I learned more about myself than I thought possible.
Not letting others learn about you is one of the greatest tragedies in life. Not everyone will understand you but a handful of people will appreciate your sarcastic humour and awkwardness. Those are your people.
And they know you’re not plain shredded wheat.
Tammy W. Karatchuk 