The Failure
Everyone goes through a depression stage. It is usually
quite visible when it hits too. It is the certain age range – the pre-teen to
teenage era – when it strikes with full force. It is the identity and
questioning years, the years that tear you apart to find yourself. They are the
toughest and most critical years in a young girl’s life. I would like to speak
for the young boys as well, but I can only speak for myself and the experiences
of others closest to me.
I was a scary tomboy. I remember my grade school years well.
There were tons of crushes among the kids in my class. Some dated each other
and rumors were constantly swirling around. He kissed her, she actually likes
this other guy, etc. Middle school – my 6th to 8th grade
years – were the worst and best. I spent my entire educational life in Catholic
schools, becoming well educated under the proctoring of my parents who believed
in the solid and well-trusted Catholic education.
I applauded my Catholic schools and adored my Catholic
education. To those who believe in it, faith is something that always stays
with you. For me, faith is the invisible layer outside my skin – it is always
with me. It is the soft pillow that comforts my body and mind when I am
stressed or inconceivably happy. Faith is no longer a reminder of something I
need to have, but something I have that I need to use.
However, I did not always have faith. In middle school, I
was picked on and befriended. I attempted to stay neutral and dreamed of things
to do instead of doing them. I stayed focused on grades and getting into high
school. If boys liked me then, I never knew. I was skinny, confused, and
incredibly shy. The back of the classroom was my home and I never rebelled
against the rules. I learned the meaning of discipline and my upbringing made
me mature at a very young age.
I was good at a couple things then, constantly dabbling with
different ideas about school subjects and sports. I was never fantastic at one
thing. I do not think I ever will be. I kept a low profile in school, trusting
few and remaining in a neutral relationship with the rest. I was civil with
girls I did not like (the popular girls) and used my manners. I never tried to
impress anyone because I did not think there was anyone for me to impress. The
other girls did. I kept a low profile on the basketball team as well, barely
making a name for myself but keeping up with my athletic skills.
I was a failure, the “could have been” prodigy child that
never was. I could have grown into a professional musician like my mother. I
could have become a superstar athlete or Irish dancer like my father hoped I
would. I could have made something of a skill I learned at a very young age and
could have been traveling the world by now, signing autographs and performing
for hundreds of thousands of people.
But I did not want to touch any of it.
I had no idea what I wanted anymore.
Fact: I am an unattractive and bony failure athlete, dancer,
musician, and student.
No comments:
Post a Comment