The Wallflower In Me: Are You Being Your Best Self?

Nature or nurture? It’s an age-old question. From John Locke’s tabula rasa to the emerging study of epigenetics, history has yielded a myriad of theories on the combined impact of genetics and environmental factors on adolescent development (Britannica; CDC). Author Steven Chbosky, too, unpacks this question in his novel The Perks of Being a Wallflower, which retells familial trauma, suicide, and abuse through the observant eye of adolescent protagonist Charlie. Readers receive the full record of Charlie’s inner monologues, as Charlie recounts his story with a series of epistles addressed to an anonymous friend. Still, Charlie’s innate motivations remain mysterious. Both nature and nature intertwine to shape Charlie’s psyche; thus, analyzing Charlie’s day-to-day interactions and childhood environment may help demystify the motivating forces that subsist within literature’s favorite wallflower.

Chbosky delicately crafts his work using literary motifs, and in The Perks of Being a Wallflower, he specifically highlights Charlie’s struggle with participation. For the most part, Charlie hovers just outside any commotion or event, content to simply observe. Yet at times, he chooses to involve himself without clear warrant, such as when he keyed the car of a football player who committed sexual assault. Given these two extremes, Charlie’s behavior seems unpredictable, but a closer look at Charlie’s upbringing reveals psychological habits, both in-born and acquired, that motivate Charlie’ actions.

It’s clear from the start that when Charlie experiences emotion, he feels it deeply and thus expresses forcefully. After learning of his best friend Michael’s suicide, he tearfully “started screaming at the guidance counselor” and “started crying even harder” until the counselor had no choice but to send Charlie home with his older brother (Chbosky 11). He naturally releases his emotion unchecked, and this outburst was intense to the extent that Charlie’s teachers were instructed to coddle him for the rest of the school year (Chbosky 11). Beyond Charlie’s cognitive instincts, there is a potential genetic basis for his emotionality. Scientists have identified a gene, known as the serotonin transporter gene (5-HTTLPR), which encodes the efficiency of the body’s serotonin reuptake  processes (Karg et. al). Inheriting the short allele of the gene results in less efficient transportation of serotonin back to the presynaptic neuron that originally released the neurotransmitter (Karg et. al). Serotonin aids in mood-regulation, and higher rates lead to a more stable, calm, and positive psyche; hence, researchers have found a causal relationship between inheriting the short 5-HTTLPR allele and the development depression (Karg et. al). The gene poses a general risk due to its etiological contribution to many psychiatric disorders, but individuals who have experienced trauma, stressful life events, or childhood mistreatment are acutely susceptible to depression and suicidality (Kuzelova et. al). Throughout Charlie’s family tree, we see a pattern of trauma and depression amongst Charlie’s relatives, which indicates a possibility that the short allele runs throughout the family. Charlie, as it’s later revealed, suffered sexual harassment as a child, which in tandem with this gene would heighten both his risk of developing depression and its severity upon onset. Though whether or not Charlie acquired a genetic predisposition to neuroticism or depression, his emphatic reactions to stressful situations signal a high emotionality innate to his psychology.

Yet Charlie’s parents discourage this expressive behavior, and they teach Charlie to compose himself in the face of stress or hardship. When Charlie’s brother arrived to pick him up from the counselor’s office, he “told [Charlie] to stop crying. Then, he put his arm on [his] shoulder and told [him] to get it out of [his] system before Dad came home” (Chbosky 10). Despite Charlie’s contextually appropriate response to learning of his best friend’s suicide, both brothers automatically recognized that their father wouldn’t be so understanding. Their parents disciplined them to curb their emotions so that they experienced only brief, halting moments of open expression, which they swiftly swept under a rug, unprocessed.

In fact, much of Charlie’s family struggles to confront and process emotion directly. Charlie recalled his mother’s reckless manner of alleviating stress after enduring Charlie’s siblings’ non-stop bickering while grocery shopping, writing “my mom would be so upset by the end of shopping that she would push the cart fast, and I would feel like I was in a submarine” (Chbosky 45). Rather than talk out their disagreements and find a compromise amidst what appear to be petty quarrels, Charlie’s mother sought a distraction. And only Charlie seemed cognizant of each family member’s emotional state — his brother and sister carried on, unsympathetic to their mother’s distress, and Charlie’s mother channeled her frustration into pushing the cart, disregarding the potential risk this posed to Charlie. Charlie himself appears aware of everyone’s agitation except his own — though his mother put him in a dangerous position, Charlie blocked out the stress by pretending he was in a submarine. Each member of Charlie’s immediate family leans on their own coping mechanisms — they don’t even consider seeking intrafamilial support or communicating in the face of adversity. This lack of mutual support can have detrimental effects on the children’s upbringing. Research finds a direct correlation amongst intra-familial relationships: for instance, conflictive parent-child relationships often result in negative sibling-sibling relationships (Oliva & Enrique). Such tendencies are demonstrated between Charlie and his sister, and their parents, particularly during confrontation. In one instance, Charlie revealed to his English teacher, and subsequently Charlie’s parents, that Charlie’s sister’s boyfriend hit her, and the family’s response is callous and unsupportive. Rather than offer emotional support, Charlie’s parents chose to lecture and impose restrictions upon Charlie’s sister, even at the peak of her tearful response. Charlie’s parents put down her attempts to defend her boyfriend, and when she  asserted that “‘He’s [her] whole world,’” Charlie’s mother warned her never to “say that about anyone again. Not even [herself]” (Chbosky 25).

Both of Charlie’s parents instruct their children to detach their emotions from any given situation and always put themselves first. Further, the tense exchanges between Charlie’s sister and her parents overflowed to Charlie and his sister’s relationship: after Charlie’s parents finished lecturing, Charlie’s sister told him she hated him, and she “said it different than she said it to [his] dad. She meant it with [Charlie]. She really did” (Chbosky 26). The effects of nurture and interdependent familial relationships both factor into this exchange; Charlie’s sister, filled with spite for her parents, turned to antagonize Charlie. Despite her enmity, she took her parents’ advice and prioritized herself, unleashing her anger on Charlie to achieve temporary emotional respite. This incident with Charlie’s sister therefore demonstrates the interdependence among intra-familial relationships, which largely influence Charlie’s childhood and his support system. In fact, negative family dynamics are linked with adolescent adjustment problems and antisocial behavior (Oliva & Enrique). Indeed, the tense and unsympathetic environment Charlie grew up in likely contributed to the depressive symptoms he later experienced. As such, regardless of Charlie’s innate emotionality, his domestic environment ultimately shaped his psychological maturation and his processes for handling emotion.

So we’ve examined the role of nature and nurture in motivating Charlie’s actions, so now let's take a look at his response — what actions do his motivations produce? Reflexive attempts to suppress emotional responses then lead to one of two behaviors in Charlie: he either dissociates or grows outwardly aggressive and forceful.

To start, Charlie exhibits a tendency to dissociate when processing intense events, which aligns with his introverted and unassuming nature. After a falling-out with his friend group, Charlie disconnected almost completely from his physical presence. He wrote, “I stared at my reflection and the trees behind it for a long time. Not thinking anything. Not feeling anything… For hours” (Chbosky 99). He highlights the transparency of his reflection and excludes the personal pronoun “I” to further exemplify the distance he feels from his present self, though the plain text of his thoughts speak loud enough. The hours-long duration of this behavior suggests that Charlie isn’t just lost in thought, but may be entering a dissociative trance (American Psychiatric Association 307). Charlie then 

concluded that “Something really is wrong with me. And I don’t know what it is” (Chbosky 99). By candidly stating an inability to understand his own self, Charlie communicates the utter disconnection he experiences with himself, which goes beyond his physical body. Given Charlie’s high emotionality, his dissociative behavior likely stems from an exaggerated embodiment of his parents’ instructions to suppress his emotions. During life-changing scenarios like this case, which resulted in Charlie’s ousting from his friend group, Charlie’s stress-management response overcompensates and sends him into a dissociative state. Scientists have also linked trauma, particularly sexual molestation or childhood abuse, with mental dissociation (Diseth 79). In fact, early traumatic experiences can impact cognitive function, altering the neurochemical and even structural development of memory or cognition-related parts of the brain (Diseth 79). Thus, Charlie’s dissociative behavior likely roots itself in both his father’s strict parenting and biological differences in his brain.

On the other hand, Charlie’s outburst with his guidance counselor provides a relevant example of a forceful reaction. Just before he started screaming, Charlie attempted to trivialize his sadness, stating, “as much as I feel sad, I think that not knowing is what really bothers me” (Chbosky 11). Though he acknowledges the tears streaming down his face, he downplays his emotional reaction, highlighting instead a logical confusion he finds with the situation. Pressure amounts, however, especially when the counselor surmises that Michael “didn’t feel like he had anyone to talk to” and inadvertently places blame on Charlie as Michael’s best friend (Chbosky 11). The counselor’s words dismantle the composed front Charlie attempted to erect, leading to his emotional outburst. It seems, then, that Charlie’s innate emotionality overwhelms his learned habit of composing himself while facing stressful situations.

In both Charlie’s dissociative and expressive responses to major life events, both intrinsic and extrinsic motivators play a crucial role in Charlie’s actions and reactions to stress. At times, the dissociative habits Charlie learned from his family prevail in curbing his emotional response, at others, Charlie’s biology and innate sentience overpower the barriers he puts up, spilling out in tears, anger, or both.

Yet there is more hidden behind Charlie’s outburst following Michael’s death. He later confronted their middle school friend, Susan, and asked if she ever thought about Michael. Susan grimaced and had nothing to say, having left behind the dorky Susan that dated Michael. Her change prompts Charlie towards a new realization:

“It suddenly dawned on me that if Michael were still around, Susan probably wouldn’t be “going out” with him anymore. Not because she’s a bad person or shallow or mean. But because things change. And friends leave. And life doesn’t stop for anybody” — Charlie (Chbosky 105)

Charlie then excused himself, saying he was “just having a tough time” and walked away (Chbosky 105). Charlie experiences, in that moment, the feeling he misunderstood from the beginning, the feeling of not having anyone to talk to. Yet before he could formulate the realization in conscious thought, he

trivialized his feelings and dismissed himself, as is his habit. As Charlie walked away, Susan’s friend called him a “f—ing freak,” which solidified Charlie’s isolation (Chbosky 105). Had Susan extended a hand of empathy or spoken a word of defense, Charlie might not have felt so alone in his struggle. Further, had Charlie’s family encouraged communication during his upbringing, perhaps Charlie might have better handled the argument with his friends and avoided ostracization. Had his childhood circumstances been different, Charlie could have avoided the catatonic episode he experienced at the climax of his struggle with repressed memories, despite any biological disposition. Alas, amidst the many conjectures or what-ifs we can make about Charlie’s life, we arrive at Chbosky’s underlying message:

Whether it’s in our nature or not, the way we nurture ourselves and those around us inevitably yields behaviors and habits that shape us later on. It could be the smallest of gestures, like Susan’s expression when she sees Charlie’s face, or more definitive actions, like Charlie’s father’s instructions to stop crying, that influence others. All these factors created the driving force that caused Charlie to act, whether passively or aggressively. His actions reveal his motivations with undeniable clarity, and beyond that, the elements of nature and nurture that formulate Charlie's very psyche. Indeed, our nature precedes us, but nurture is a daily regimen. The true question, then, is how can we be intentional about the way we nurture?

The Perks of Being a Wallflower presents itself as a narrative contrasting nature and nurture, but beneath that, Chbosky tells a story about empathy. He gathers the experiences of the wallflowers that linger at society’s perimeters and sends his readers a bouquet. For Charlie, both nature and nurture play a role: Charlie’s home environment exacerbated any genetic predisposition he might have had to depressive moods or mental illness. His family members’ actions essentially shaped Charlie’s coping mechanisms, which allowed his symptoms to worsen unnoticed. It’s difficult not to wonder what they could have done differently, and in turn, what we can do differently, starting now. So the solution, Chbosky reminds us, is empathy. And yes, it’s sometimes difficult to choose empathy when it’s easier to remain complacent, indifferent. And it’s impossible to micromanage the outcomes of our actions—even well-intentioned decisions sometimes lead to harm. But Charlie’s story reminds us that there are consequences to our indifference, and there is suffocation in the feeling of loneliness. 

So, nurture, Chbosky implores us. Care. 

For wallflowers, too, can thrive at the table’s center, so long as someone takes the time to put it there.