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Abby Sher
Abby Sher
Cognition

Why I must leave the KGB

I want, I need, I devour this soup.

This time of year is full of mistletoe and latkes, festival lights and resolutions. It's also the twentieth anniversary of the dissolution of the USSR.

Which means my one New Year's Resolution for 2012 is to leave the KGB.

No, I never actually stole atomic secrets or accused friends of being ideological dissenters. I have no skills as a true spy, especially because my nose is often stuffy and I breathe like a dragon. But psychologically, I know I've been adhering to an outdated mindset, built on secrecy and intimidation.

Gorbachev had the decency to step down. So should I.

I was a freshman in college in 1991. I signed up for Russian language because a girl in my dorm spoke it and I wanted to be her friend. My teacher, Elena, was magnificent. Bright magenta curls and flaming red lips. A huge chest and arms that flapped wildly while she reenacted what it was like to live under Soviet rule. This was a language class, but as she explained, the Russian language was just another tool used by the government to make each individual feel like an unworthy speck. Instead of saying, "I like this soup", one had to say, "This soup is pleasing to me." The passive voice informed every thought, action, or desire. Elena was loud and excited.

"This soup is pleasing to me? Pah! So weak. What about I want this soup. I need this soup. I devour this soup."

My freshman year in college is also when I started actively pursuing deprivation. Locking myself in my dorm room to pray for hours. Piling up pieces of bread from the cafeteria on my desk so I wouldn't have to eat with everyone else. I was allergic to Prell shampoo but refused to buy anything more expensive so my eyelids peeled and bled. I remember coming home for my first Thanksgiving break and my mom holding me, us both wondering for what purpose?

The short answer is it's addictive. And dishonest. I can convince myself all too easily that by using the passive voice, I can save face. Some of my common excuses:

"Meant to call you back but it was crazy busy."

"Can't eat cheese because it does stuff to me."

"Mama has to do dishes before she can do anything else."

I am not a victim unless I choose to be. And especially today, while the world feels more alive and alert than ever to each other's suffering, I know this is a ridiculously egotistical choice to make. When I decide I'm too busy or put upon to play with my kids, I'm not serving some greater whole. When I let my fear of brie dictate how my body will react, I'm a coward.

This year, I vow to dissolve this mini me. I will speak in honest, accountable words. Only make promises I can and do keep. I will eat foods that scare me, make time for tickle fights, volunteer for a soup kitchen and a presidential campaign.

I am grateful to be part of this universe. An active contributor.

I may even dye my hair magenta.

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About the Author
Abby Sher

Abby Sher is a writer and performer in Brooklyn, New York, and the author of Amen, Amen, Amen: Memoir of a Girl Who Couldn't Stop Praying.

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