Elaine Abery - Personality

Personality

People love me or hate me – black or white. That is the way I felt about things when I was 15. I only know that because I was an exchange student in Germany.

I took the train to Frankfurt (actually, it was probably 2 trains) from my host family’s town in Bavaria. Winter in Europe means it was dark when I left and became a pale grey by the time the train arrived in Frankfurt. I woke up to the Rhine River and wondered if I was still dreaming. This was a wonderland, complete with castles alongside the river.

By the time I arrived home to Bavaria, my tongue hurt. Despite my host mother’s urgings, I refused to take any food with me on the train apart from kiwi fruit. After all, I was 15 and knew everything. Who would have guessed that the acid in so many kiwi fruit would give me a sore tongue? The same thing happened when I returned to Australia and was so delighted to see salt and vinegar chips again that I may have overindulged and burnt the skin on the roof of my mouth. They only had plain or paprika chips in Germany.

My family is well known in the classical music world. Obviously, the family friend planned an interesting day for me, visiting classical churches, with an evening at the opera to crown the day. At the time, I thought she was an old woman. Given the dozens of kilometres we walked that day, my adult brain tells me she must have been closer to middle age. She had no children.

My memories of the day are. (1) looking for warm, handmade bretzeln stands, and buying a Bretzel at each one. (2) the lady telling me “not everything is black or white”. I didn’t understand at the time, but I see it in the teenagers in my life today. (3) falling asleep at the opera and feeling guilty about it – she had obviously spent a lot of money on the tickets.

I discussed the day and my feelings with my host mother when I was in Bavaria. My host mother had a 3 year old and discovered teenagerhood when she had to cajole my favourite jeans from me as I showered, wash them and hang them over the radiator so I could wear them the next day. I had other clothes but refused to wear them, unless it was a special occasion.

I guess it would be more accurate to say that people react to me. Someone worded this better as “people feel challenged by you.”

I’m not sure exactly what it is about my personality, but people feeling challenged by, or challenging, me is a key part of my life experience.

I was at Sydney airport, in the taxi queue, when someone gushed towards me and enveloped me in a hug. I heard the voice and stiffened. This woman had made my life miserable in a former workplace. She told me I was underperforming, she needed to manage me out of the workplace and that would be best for me. A senior officer who had previously commented on the high quality of my work saw the way I was being treated and asked for me to be transferred to his team. The whole team could hear her arguing with him, telling him he did not want me. He pulled rank. A few months after I left the team, many of her staff put in complaints about her and she went on extended stress leave. “It was like you consumed her energy and she had to target all of us to compare with you.”