Don’t Be Dark And Mysterious

When I was a freshman in high school, I called up one of my best (and only) friends in a state of intense distress and asked her why it was that people did not seem to like me very much. Her gentle but honest answer was that I did not seem to like anyone else very much. I was sarcastic, I made no effort to get to know any of my peers, and I never, ever smiled in pictures. I wasn’t just miserable, I was committed to misery. It took me four years of wishing I had dark, windswept hair and a heath to stare at before I understood what she meant, but by the time I graduated I was done with being (or trying to be) dark and mysterious. But you can skip those years and go straight to being happy. Here’s why:

(Tragically) this is reality.

One of the greatest disservices fiction has ever done to young minds is glamorizing the brooder: that figure on the outskirts of the social scene who is flagrantly, passionately unhappy, and with whom all the other characters are fascinated. Heathcliff, Edward Cullen, James Dean, Kristen Stewart. Their pouty lips and tousled hair seem to indicate a dark personal history, a rock and roll disaffection with societal norms, and an undeniable shmexiness. The appeal of this image is so strong that in every generation of young people, a sizable percentage of them spend their formative years trying to emit darkness the same way a star emits light. And as someone who has stood in her fair share of rain storms, I am here to tell you: don’t do it.

It will not make you friends.

The thing about broody characters in movies is that everyone is fascinated by them and desperate to be near them. But here is a hard truth: that is because they are all movie stars and they look like movie stars. If you are in the top 1% of human attractiveness, everything you do will seem interesting and compelling, and people will be very invested in discovering the reasons for your ennui*. For the other 99% of us, it doesn’t work that way. People are less likely to describe you as “mysterious” and more likely to refer to you as “that jerk with a bad attitude.” Because people (hold on to your hats here) generally prefer to surround themselves with upbeat, happy companionship.

*Also applies if you have a castle. But do you have a castle?

It will not make people notice your pain.

If by your scowls, your eye-rolls, and the ever-present book in front of your face/earbuds in your ears, you are trying to communicate “Hey, there is something wrong and I would like you to ask me what it is,” there are much more direct ways to go about it. You could try talking to someone (like a friend or a counselor or even an internet writer). But the trouble with making yourself emotionally unavailable, is that even if somebody does want to help you, they will likely be too scared off by your aura of impenetrability to say anything.

You’re going to grow out of it anyway.

There are only two suitable occupations for adults who insist on being dark and mysterious: Eastern European Count or video store clerk, and both of them are dying breeds.

 

For everyone else, the day will come when you realize you’d rather be a Luna than a Severus, a Peeta than a Gale, and a lame, happy person than a cool, miserable one.

So Sparklers, are you now or have you ever been a brooder? Do you have a pet raven perched on your shoulder RIGHT NOW?