People are creatures of habit and I must admit that I share this trait. I eat the same food, listen to the same music, watch the same television programs and wear the same outfits. I wasn’t always this way. I can’t remember the moment I decided to become a habitual person but I’m almost positive that it had something to do with the misplacement of a homework assignment.

As a child, it would have been accurate to describe me as having a ‘scattered brain.’ I’m still very much like this, but at some moment I stopped embracing this title. At one point in my life, I was no longer applauded for coloring outside the lines.

In fifth grade, I took a test to determine if I was a ‘right’ or ‘left’ brained thinker. The theory of the left and right brain claims that each person has a dominant side of the brain.

The right side controls creative processes while the left controls logical thinking. No one was surprised that I was right brain dominant. While this theory has long been considered obsolete, I still hold onto my ‘right brain’ label. Like one of those pesky plastic tags attached to clothes, it stays on my character.

In junior high, I started to religiously keep a planner. I recorded every assignment and penned every high-priority activity that a tween can have. I was afraid that any information I was told would float into my head and out my ears and would be replaced with a daydream if it were not recorded. Keeping a planner is one of the first long-term habits I consciously formed. It’s a habit I have to this day.

This is just one of the many ways that I’ve tried to organize my thoughts and life in the recent years. My lack of organization and neatness can’t be completely blamed on my efforts. Not being organized is not necessarily a conscious choice. In fact, I am often fighting to keep what I have in order to stay in order.

As I have become older, my mindset has shifted from “My mind doesn’t work like everyone else’s. Oh well!” to “I’m different. Should I fix this?” While conformation is expected and encouraged with age, I constantly wonder how much I am willing to conform with the rest of my peers.

I know deep down that a part of my quirky unorganized mind will always remain apart of me. How much am I willing to cover that person up? This question is one that I still struggle with on a daily basis.

The perfect balance between who I am and whom the world wants me to is a formula I haven’t discovered yet. Perhaps I never will. Maybe I’m not supposed to. Until that mythical day comes, I will just try to embrace my scattered brain for its virtues and work to solve its vices.

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