Among writers, if you don't have a therapist, it's like saying you don't keep a journal or use the thesaurus. It's a natural accompaniment.
I learned to make things not matter, to put a seal on my hopes and place them on a high shelf, out of reach. And by telling myself that there was nothing inside those hopes anyway, I avoided the wounds of deep disappointment. The pain was no worse than the quick sting of a booster shot. And yet thinking about this makes me ache again. How is it that as a child I knew I should have been loved more? Is everyone born with a bottomless emotional resevoir?
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects on the complexity of hope and emotional resilience, suggesting that by detaching from one's hopes, one can shield themselves from disappointment.
In this quote, Amy Tan delves into the concept of emotional protection and the pain of unfulfilled expectations. She reflects on her childhood awareness of needing more love and suggests that by placing her hopes out of reach, she has managed to shield herself from the hurt of deep disappointment. However, this detachment also leads to an ache for the love and connection she recognizes should have been present, raising questions about the nature of hope and emotional depth.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a discussion about emotional resilience and the impacts of childhood experiences on adult life.
More from Amy Tan
All quotes →Her education only made her unhappy thinking about it - that no matter how much she changed her life, she could not change the world that surrounded her.
You can't have intentions without consequences. The question is, who pays for the consequences? Saving fish from drowning. Same thing. Who’s saved? Who’s not?
I am fascinated by language in daily life: the way it can evoke an emotion, a visual image, a complex idea, or a simple truth.
Even if I had expected it, even if I had known what I was going to do with my life, it would have knocked the wind out of me. When something that violent hits you, you can't help but lose your balance and fall. And after you pick yourself up, you realize you can't trust anybody to save you- not your husband, not your mother, not God. So what can you do to stop yourself from tilting and falling all over again?
And for all those years, we never talked about the disaster at the recital or my terrible accusations afterward at the piano bench. All that remained unchecked, like a betrayal that was now unbreakable. So I never found a way to ask her why she had hoped something so large that failure was inevitable. And even worse, I never asked her what frightened me the most: Why had she given up hope?
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