The Opposite of Butterfly Hunting: The Tragedy and The Glory of Growing Up: A Memoir

by Evanna Lynch

I decided, in that moment, that I didn’t like science. It forced brutal, uncompromising restraints on my imagination that there was no coming back from.

‘Why don’t you worry in the other direction?’ she demanded, nailing me with her penetrating green gaze, which lovingly refused to ever let her students off the hook. ‘Why don’t you worry that it will all work out and you’ll meet all your creative matches and you’ll be too successful and too happy and too busy with how much work you have? Why must you always anticipate the absolute worst-case scenario, when you could worry that everything will just be too wonderful? Why do you do that? Why?’ Good point, I thought. Why do I?