I have six weeks left to go. About a month, minus the weekends.
I don't say that with sadness, nor with a "get me out of here!" kind of attitude. It's rather strange, almost foreign when I think about it; maybe because a good amount of people thought I wasn't going to make it. Not because I wasn't smart enough, but because they didn't expect me to live past infancy.
It hasn't quite hit me yet. I know it's coming up, but it just seems so out there.
Life in general has brought me a lot of joy in the last couple of weeks: my college loan was approved, I got into the dorm that I wanted (on top of that, my whole floor is English and Writing majors!) and I'm going to prom with an incredibly sweet guy. But it's not just happenings that are putting a mile-wide smile on my face.
Whenever I look in the mirror, I no longer see a girl that allowed her insecurities to get the best of her or constantly relied on other people to make her happy. Instead, I see a young woman that's allowed her experiences, both good and bad, to mold her into the person that she is; a strong, outgoing, spunky (sometimes feisty) independent woman.
I feel really good about all of it. And not to sound full of myself, but I'm rather proud of these changes. I've come a long way, both from my younger years and the beginning of this year.
It's fresh and inviting, this new perspective that I have. I'm not focusing on boys in particular because I want to give someone the chance to pursue me. Let me tell you, it's nice when someone in particular isn't dominating your every thought or emotion. That's not to say that I don't think about certain people, but I'm not fixated. I want to be in a relationship for the right reasons and for the both of us to truly have feelings for each other. There's a difference between liking someone for who they are, and liking someone because you like the idea of who they are.
I'm just choosing to go with the flow. Letting go and letting God. I'm putting my thoughts into actions, but I'm not being a perfectionist about any of it.
Ultimately, I'm in a good place at this moment. I don't have any particular plan, but sometimes you get more then you expected when you just let things happen as they're meant to happen.
April 27, 2010
April 05, 2010
No More
I have always tended to view myself as Wonder Woman in real life; the kind of person that goes through a ton of BS and comes out smelling like a rose, having the ability to get right back up when she gets knocked down, and ultimately not needing help from anybody whatsoever. For the last six months or so, that's the way my outlook has been.
When three of my closest friends (from school) left for college last August, I was somewhat afraid, but confident at the same time in regards of having someone to fall back on. Unfortunately that relationship began to fall apart over the course of time, and by Christmas break I couldn't take it anymore. I felt the need to be alone and deal with the pain all by myself. I didn't want to become dependent on anyone to make me happy and ultimately become a band-aid.
Along with that, I'd been told numerous times that this was the time "to start growing up and learning how to deal with things on your own" because "There are going to be people there that just aren't going to give a crap about how you feel or what you're going through." That struck a chord with me because my family was (and still is) fairly skeptical of my ability to function independently. To me, it was my way of proving that I was growing up and could live life as an adult.
That attitude would carry over into other areas as well. It has kept me from developing close friendships with my classmates. I stopped going to youth group and most of the time have been going through the motions on Sundays during church. Whenever anyone in my family has asked, I just retort by saying that I don't want to talk about it (I will be honest though, I'm rather tired of the cynicism). My journal has been untouched for months, and I don't think I've written one poem or story that I consider deep or meaningful, lest including college essays in that category.
When it all comes down to it, life has been very lonely up to this point. Sometimes I feel like I'm just surviving rather than living.
But while being on break from school, it hit me that being an adult doesn't make you invincible; it doesn't make you immune to struggles or pain, and doesn't always mean that you have to deal with it all by yourself.
As much as I try to be, I'm nowhere near Wonder Woman.
I really do miss being close to people. I miss that sense of community and knowing that I can come to a place where I feel safe and secure. I want to be able to go to people again and talk about how I feel without apprehension or fear. Sometimes I don't always feel like talking about it, though. There are times where I just want to be held, or to be prayed for. I want to do all of that without feeling like an inconvenience.
Deep down, I miss having faith. I remember when I was thirteen, how both God and faith were such a central part of my life. I won't deny that I've questioned my beliefs or debated right from wrong, but I'll save that for another time. Faith is freedom from worry, and unfortunately I've become a compulsive worrier. I long for the kind of peace and joy that I once felt so long ago.
The root of all this silence is pride. I do have a habit of not asking for help when I need it, nor do I really like to. Heck, I'd rather bend over backwards and try to do it all myself rather than have someone help me do it. I'm not sure if it's because I want to prove something to people, or because I want my friends and family to be proud of me. Maybe it's both.
But I know I can't do it on my own. In reality, no one really can. Does that mean a person has to cry wolf every time something happens? No. But that doesn't mean that have to walk all alone through the forest either.
When three of my closest friends (from school) left for college last August, I was somewhat afraid, but confident at the same time in regards of having someone to fall back on. Unfortunately that relationship began to fall apart over the course of time, and by Christmas break I couldn't take it anymore. I felt the need to be alone and deal with the pain all by myself. I didn't want to become dependent on anyone to make me happy and ultimately become a band-aid.
Along with that, I'd been told numerous times that this was the time "to start growing up and learning how to deal with things on your own" because "There are going to be people there that just aren't going to give a crap about how you feel or what you're going through." That struck a chord with me because my family was (and still is) fairly skeptical of my ability to function independently. To me, it was my way of proving that I was growing up and could live life as an adult.
That attitude would carry over into other areas as well. It has kept me from developing close friendships with my classmates. I stopped going to youth group and most of the time have been going through the motions on Sundays during church. Whenever anyone in my family has asked, I just retort by saying that I don't want to talk about it (I will be honest though, I'm rather tired of the cynicism). My journal has been untouched for months, and I don't think I've written one poem or story that I consider deep or meaningful, lest including college essays in that category.
When it all comes down to it, life has been very lonely up to this point. Sometimes I feel like I'm just surviving rather than living.
But while being on break from school, it hit me that being an adult doesn't make you invincible; it doesn't make you immune to struggles or pain, and doesn't always mean that you have to deal with it all by yourself.
As much as I try to be, I'm nowhere near Wonder Woman.
I really do miss being close to people. I miss that sense of community and knowing that I can come to a place where I feel safe and secure. I want to be able to go to people again and talk about how I feel without apprehension or fear. Sometimes I don't always feel like talking about it, though. There are times where I just want to be held, or to be prayed for. I want to do all of that without feeling like an inconvenience.
Deep down, I miss having faith. I remember when I was thirteen, how both God and faith were such a central part of my life. I won't deny that I've questioned my beliefs or debated right from wrong, but I'll save that for another time. Faith is freedom from worry, and unfortunately I've become a compulsive worrier. I long for the kind of peace and joy that I once felt so long ago.
The root of all this silence is pride. I do have a habit of not asking for help when I need it, nor do I really like to. Heck, I'd rather bend over backwards and try to do it all myself rather than have someone help me do it. I'm not sure if it's because I want to prove something to people, or because I want my friends and family to be proud of me. Maybe it's both.
But I know I can't do it on my own. In reality, no one really can. Does that mean a person has to cry wolf every time something happens? No. But that doesn't mean that have to walk all alone through the forest either.
March 27, 2010
Beauty and What It Means to Me
Beauty and the subject of it have been around since the beginning of time; but these days, it seems have to have become the epicenter of modern American culture. There isn't a magazine that hasn't covered the topic or doesn't constantly focus on it. So much in fact, that photos get constantly airbrushed and doctored as to convey the message that "beauty equals perfection"
And that, unfortunately, is a message that has carried itself over to millions of women (and even men) world-wide. I see and hear about so many teens and young women putting on nearly a pound of make-up every single day. (One girl I went to high school with during my freshman year would apply and reapply cover-up/face powder almost hourly. Now granted, she struggled with bad acne but truth be told it wasn't really helping). The number of eating disorders are going up almost every day because they want to be stick thin; and for those who are actually comfortable with their body type, they get criticized for being supposedly fat.(I'm thinking of Jessica Simpson here, whom I think is one of the few celebrities that doesn't act completely fake). Frankly, all of it as a whole is incredibly disgusting as well as sad.
In my own personal opinion, there are two main things when it comes to beauty. In regards to physical beauty, moderation is key. I'm all for wearing make-up, going tanning and even cosmetic surgery, but I really think it depends on how much and why. I believe that make-up should emphasize one's natural features; when I wear it, I try to stick with the shades and colors that go best with my eyes and skin tone. Just as well, I have different looks for both day and night; in other words, I try to avoid heavy amounts of eye-shadow and eye-liner unless I'm going out and/or it's for a special occasion.
When it comes to tanning, I don't think a little vitamin D will kill you. At the same time, skin cancer does run on my mother's side of the family, so I am careful as to how often I do tan and remembering to wear sunscreen while outside. And although I wouldn't have plastic surgery unless I felt I absolutely had to, I'm not going to judge those that do. The only thing I will say on that particular subject is that if one does decide to have it, he or she will have to live with the consequences for the rest of their lives. It's not a decision that should be taken lightly.
Even more important than physical beauty is emotional beauty; that it shouldn't be about what you look like, but how you feel. Don't go wearing seven or eight-inch heels if you think you're going to break your neck in them (as much as they say that pain is beauty, I don't find that to be true all the time). I'm all for being attractive in what I wear, but I'm not going to wear clothing that I feel vulnerable in or ultimately sends a "come and get it" kind of message. Girls should respect their bodies and it's good to be a little bit mysterious. And I don't like dressing up to the nines all the time; I'm not saying that people who do are bad, because it's what they're comfortable with. But I enjoy wearing just a simple tank top and sweatpants and little to no make-up because I can just chill and focus on how I feel, not what I look like
I've had my own struggles with beauty and self-esteem since I was a child: In first through fourth grade, I hated the clothes that my Mother bought me because I thought I looked ugly in them. When I got to middle school, it was frustrating because girls my age were looking and dressing like they were seventeen and eighteen years old. It until my freshman year to learn how to apply eye-shadow and eye-liner without looking like a complete mess.
And even now in high school, I still battle my own insecurities. There was a time last year when I was insanely jealous of a few of my close friends because of how they looked. There are days where I truly wonder if I am beautiful, because I've only been told by friends, family and facebook stalkers who just want to jump my bones. I question as to whether my handicap is the reason why I have yet to be asked out on a date or asked by someone to dance. And hearing "this school needs hotter girls" doesn't help much either.
When it all comes down to it, self-confidence and lack of it is the biggest problem. The saying that "in order for others to love you, you have to be able to love yourself first" rings completely and entirely true. But than poses another dilemma: how does one become confident in themselves without becoming full of themselves? And how does one be confident each and every day?
It's not easy, and it's not going to get any easier. There will always be standards and ideas that society expects people to live up to. The biggest lesson I've learned is that if you're going to look, act or dress a certain way, do so because you truly feel that it's right and it's what you want. Living to please others will only give satisfaction for so long or not at all.
We can't change the media or the way it works. The only thing we can do change the way we view ourselves and others.
This website is amazing. Check it out for yourself
There is beauty in everything; You just have to take a step back and open your eyes
And that, unfortunately, is a message that has carried itself over to millions of women (and even men) world-wide. I see and hear about so many teens and young women putting on nearly a pound of make-up every single day. (One girl I went to high school with during my freshman year would apply and reapply cover-up/face powder almost hourly. Now granted, she struggled with bad acne but truth be told it wasn't really helping). The number of eating disorders are going up almost every day because they want to be stick thin; and for those who are actually comfortable with their body type, they get criticized for being supposedly fat.(I'm thinking of Jessica Simpson here, whom I think is one of the few celebrities that doesn't act completely fake). Frankly, all of it as a whole is incredibly disgusting as well as sad.
In my own personal opinion, there are two main things when it comes to beauty. In regards to physical beauty, moderation is key. I'm all for wearing make-up, going tanning and even cosmetic surgery, but I really think it depends on how much and why. I believe that make-up should emphasize one's natural features; when I wear it, I try to stick with the shades and colors that go best with my eyes and skin tone. Just as well, I have different looks for both day and night; in other words, I try to avoid heavy amounts of eye-shadow and eye-liner unless I'm going out and/or it's for a special occasion.
When it comes to tanning, I don't think a little vitamin D will kill you. At the same time, skin cancer does run on my mother's side of the family, so I am careful as to how often I do tan and remembering to wear sunscreen while outside. And although I wouldn't have plastic surgery unless I felt I absolutely had to, I'm not going to judge those that do. The only thing I will say on that particular subject is that if one does decide to have it, he or she will have to live with the consequences for the rest of their lives. It's not a decision that should be taken lightly.
Even more important than physical beauty is emotional beauty; that it shouldn't be about what you look like, but how you feel. Don't go wearing seven or eight-inch heels if you think you're going to break your neck in them (as much as they say that pain is beauty, I don't find that to be true all the time). I'm all for being attractive in what I wear, but I'm not going to wear clothing that I feel vulnerable in or ultimately sends a "come and get it" kind of message. Girls should respect their bodies and it's good to be a little bit mysterious. And I don't like dressing up to the nines all the time; I'm not saying that people who do are bad, because it's what they're comfortable with. But I enjoy wearing just a simple tank top and sweatpants and little to no make-up because I can just chill and focus on how I feel, not what I look like
I've had my own struggles with beauty and self-esteem since I was a child: In first through fourth grade, I hated the clothes that my Mother bought me because I thought I looked ugly in them. When I got to middle school, it was frustrating because girls my age were looking and dressing like they were seventeen and eighteen years old. It until my freshman year to learn how to apply eye-shadow and eye-liner without looking like a complete mess.
And even now in high school, I still battle my own insecurities. There was a time last year when I was insanely jealous of a few of my close friends because of how they looked. There are days where I truly wonder if I am beautiful, because I've only been told by friends, family and facebook stalkers who just want to jump my bones. I question as to whether my handicap is the reason why I have yet to be asked out on a date or asked by someone to dance. And hearing "this school needs hotter girls" doesn't help much either.
When it all comes down to it, self-confidence and lack of it is the biggest problem. The saying that "in order for others to love you, you have to be able to love yourself first" rings completely and entirely true. But than poses another dilemma: how does one become confident in themselves without becoming full of themselves? And how does one be confident each and every day?
It's not easy, and it's not going to get any easier. There will always be standards and ideas that society expects people to live up to. The biggest lesson I've learned is that if you're going to look, act or dress a certain way, do so because you truly feel that it's right and it's what you want. Living to please others will only give satisfaction for so long or not at all.
We can't change the media or the way it works. The only thing we can do change the way we view ourselves and others.
This website is amazing. Check it out for yourself
There is beauty in everything; You just have to take a step back and open your eyes
March 09, 2010
Why I blog, and other things
I first came on to the blogging scene in December of 2005. It was on another website, and my intention for it wasn't to blog, so to speak. Granted, I did post things quite often, but the majority of it was about the daily happenings in my life. That, and because it became one of those "gotta have it" things with kids my age at that time; a temporary cyber-playground that would get old once I discovered blogging possibilities on Myspace and Facebook soon after.
I stumbled into this little place when I began following a friend's blog over the course of time; I had an urge to create one of my own, but I had so many other things to keep updating and I didn't want to add another hour to the already unnecessary hours I spend staring at the computer screen. Yet I was intrigued by the prospect of being able to write and share my thoughts without being coerced into some kind of group for specific web groups or what have you. And in a way, I missed sharing my frequent musings with people via cyberspace.
My site name was born out of simplicity; I'm the kind of person that doesn't like to capitalize on specific notions or happenings in my life; in other words, my life doesn't constantly revolve around it. There are a vast amount of blogs out there dedicated to parenting, dating, careers, etc. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, but it just isn't my thing. Quite frankly, I would get bored talking about the same subject whenever I came on here. I have a very diverse personality and it's difficult to describe myself in just one single sentence (although I'm sure various friends and family members will have a different answer for that).
I write about whatever is on my mind; there are currently at least ten plus different topics sitting in the crevices of my brain at this moment. The hardest part, in my opinion, is knowing which one to talk about, or even if I should. One of the topics I'm rather hesitant about sticking my toes in is politics. Despite being of legal age to vote, I can't say that I have an incredibly amount of knowledge in regards to both the Democratic and Republican parties, or what their views exactly are. I probably should start educating myself more, but the whole thing is confusing. So I choose to tread carefully with politic issues because I realize that I don't have enough information to support my view (s) all the time. I'll admit that another key factor is that I hate getting into arguments, no matter what the motivation is.
But that's what being a writer is all about; writing what you feel and what you think, despite there being a chance that not everyone will like or agree with it.
I hope that when people come on here, they will get something out of it; maybe a little encouragement, maybe even a little insight. I want this to be a way for people to get to know me a bit better by reading the words that I struggle with forming in person. To some, it's a way to keep up with where I'm at in my personal journey. To others, it could be because of my writing style. Whatever it is, I hope that it has an effect of some kind. That yes, there is more to me than what meets the eye.
I stumbled into this little place when I began following a friend's blog over the course of time; I had an urge to create one of my own, but I had so many other things to keep updating and I didn't want to add another hour to the already unnecessary hours I spend staring at the computer screen. Yet I was intrigued by the prospect of being able to write and share my thoughts without being coerced into some kind of group for specific web groups or what have you. And in a way, I missed sharing my frequent musings with people via cyberspace.
My site name was born out of simplicity; I'm the kind of person that doesn't like to capitalize on specific notions or happenings in my life; in other words, my life doesn't constantly revolve around it. There are a vast amount of blogs out there dedicated to parenting, dating, careers, etc. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, but it just isn't my thing. Quite frankly, I would get bored talking about the same subject whenever I came on here. I have a very diverse personality and it's difficult to describe myself in just one single sentence (although I'm sure various friends and family members will have a different answer for that).
I write about whatever is on my mind; there are currently at least ten plus different topics sitting in the crevices of my brain at this moment. The hardest part, in my opinion, is knowing which one to talk about, or even if I should. One of the topics I'm rather hesitant about sticking my toes in is politics. Despite being of legal age to vote, I can't say that I have an incredibly amount of knowledge in regards to both the Democratic and Republican parties, or what their views exactly are. I probably should start educating myself more, but the whole thing is confusing. So I choose to tread carefully with politic issues because I realize that I don't have enough information to support my view (s) all the time. I'll admit that another key factor is that I hate getting into arguments, no matter what the motivation is.
But that's what being a writer is all about; writing what you feel and what you think, despite there being a chance that not everyone will like or agree with it.
I hope that when people come on here, they will get something out of it; maybe a little encouragement, maybe even a little insight. I want this to be a way for people to get to know me a bit better by reading the words that I struggle with forming in person. To some, it's a way to keep up with where I'm at in my personal journey. To others, it could be because of my writing style. Whatever it is, I hope that it has an effect of some kind. That yes, there is more to me than what meets the eye.
March 06, 2010
Fighting Skepticism (and self-doubt)
The deal is pretty much done; I sent my housing application in awhile back, my fasfa and other forms of financial aid are being processed, and I paid my official acceptance fee just recently. Now I'm just waiting to find out when my orientation date is and I'll get my housing/roommate assignments during the summer. For the most part it's all systems go.
I know that a lot of friends and family have been skeptical about my decision ever since I began looking at colleges. In the beginning I did focus on the smaller schools because I thought it would be easier when it comes to getting around and what not. But as time went on, I couldn't see myself truly enjoying being a student there, and they didn't have all that much to show in regards to my major.
And when I was looking into the University that I'll be attending this coming fall, I myself was a bit weary of it. People kept telling me how big it was, that would be a ton of walking, and that I would be just a number. For awhile I put it out of my mind because of what other people were saying. Yet after visiting that particular campus last October...I just knew. My Mom even pointed out how my entire face lit up as we were touring the buildings and different parts of the school.
Contrary to the usual assumptions, I'm not doing this because it's my mother's alma matter (she actually wasn't for it until we visited and I explained my personal reasons afterward) or because I know about four or five people that already go there. This was my decision and mine alone, and I have no qualms about it. I'm going there because it feels right to me; I'm going to get so many more opportunities that I didn't get while in a private Catholic high school, and it has an exceptional English and creative writing program. Ultimately, I need to learn how to live my own life and do my own thing.
I know that I shouldn't have to prove anything to anyone, and that I shouldn't give a crap about their own inputs. However, I can't deny that it hurt when I told various friends and family members as to where I'm headed. A good portion are elated and proud of me, but some have expressed their doubts and concerns. In a way, I understand it because I know they're worried and they want me to succeed. Yet it's frustrating when I tell people and they're like "you're going there? Are you sure?" It's as if being mildly handicapped and going to a Big Ten University are like trying to fit a square into a circle. My own brother repeatedly tells me that he believes I'm not going to survive there.
I guess that's one of the major set-backs of living with any type of handicap; no matter what, there are always going to be these assumptions about what you can and can't do. That just because it may be a bit more difficult, that you should lower your standards and just settle for whatever is easiest, even though it's not what you want. Truthfully, that's the kind of stigma that I absolutely detest.
But just because the mountain may tall and the road may be long, it doesn't mean that you shouldn't reach for the stars.
I really can't say what will come of any of it right now, being that I haven't even graduated from high school yet. I realize that I'm not going to (and I can't) know everything when I leave in August. But I think that it's part of college; doing things you've never done before and experiencing all kinds of things, both good and bad. Right now, I'm just tackling things one at a time, and I have faith that no matter what happens, I'm going to be fine.
I know that a lot of friends and family have been skeptical about my decision ever since I began looking at colleges. In the beginning I did focus on the smaller schools because I thought it would be easier when it comes to getting around and what not. But as time went on, I couldn't see myself truly enjoying being a student there, and they didn't have all that much to show in regards to my major.
And when I was looking into the University that I'll be attending this coming fall, I myself was a bit weary of it. People kept telling me how big it was, that would be a ton of walking, and that I would be just a number. For awhile I put it out of my mind because of what other people were saying. Yet after visiting that particular campus last October...I just knew. My Mom even pointed out how my entire face lit up as we were touring the buildings and different parts of the school.
Contrary to the usual assumptions, I'm not doing this because it's my mother's alma matter (she actually wasn't for it until we visited and I explained my personal reasons afterward) or because I know about four or five people that already go there. This was my decision and mine alone, and I have no qualms about it. I'm going there because it feels right to me; I'm going to get so many more opportunities that I didn't get while in a private Catholic high school, and it has an exceptional English and creative writing program. Ultimately, I need to learn how to live my own life and do my own thing.
I know that I shouldn't have to prove anything to anyone, and that I shouldn't give a crap about their own inputs. However, I can't deny that it hurt when I told various friends and family members as to where I'm headed. A good portion are elated and proud of me, but some have expressed their doubts and concerns. In a way, I understand it because I know they're worried and they want me to succeed. Yet it's frustrating when I tell people and they're like "you're going there? Are you sure?" It's as if being mildly handicapped and going to a Big Ten University are like trying to fit a square into a circle. My own brother repeatedly tells me that he believes I'm not going to survive there.
I guess that's one of the major set-backs of living with any type of handicap; no matter what, there are always going to be these assumptions about what you can and can't do. That just because it may be a bit more difficult, that you should lower your standards and just settle for whatever is easiest, even though it's not what you want. Truthfully, that's the kind of stigma that I absolutely detest.
But just because the mountain may tall and the road may be long, it doesn't mean that you shouldn't reach for the stars.
I really can't say what will come of any of it right now, being that I haven't even graduated from high school yet. I realize that I'm not going to (and I can't) know everything when I leave in August. But I think that it's part of college; doing things you've never done before and experiencing all kinds of things, both good and bad. Right now, I'm just tackling things one at a time, and I have faith that no matter what happens, I'm going to be fine.
February 25, 2010
Being Real
Like many bloggers, I struggle with being real in the things I post. Not real in the sense that I'm not being true to myself or my personality, but to my feelings. Some will call this authentic blogging; that is, being honest in regards to what you write about without sugar-coating it, nor taking on an Eyore (from Winnie the Pooh)-esque attitude.
It's something that I've battled since I was twelve; whenever I would come home in tears from having a bad day at school (which during that time was fairly often) my mom always told me that "no one likes a depressed person." When I would be completely honest with my therapist/school counselor, she'd always ask "what's with all this negativity?" When I would talk to my friends about it, they didn't really know what to say (not that I'm blaming them in any way whatsoever). It got to the point where I felt like I was pushing all my loved ones away, so I decided that it would be better to bury my true emotions and just deal with things on my own.
Eventually I did learn to open up more, but only to certain people; over time, they became the only people confided in because they were good at listening and never passed any judgement in regards to what I told them. When it came time for high school, I decided to be happy no matter what because I didn't want to have a repeat of my middle school years.
Even today, both trust and authenticity are delicate issues for me. I've come to the conclusion that I'm extremely stubborn, and therefore incredibly prideful. I usually don't like asking for help (or unfortunately, even accepting help) unless I really need it. I don't want people seeing me and thinking "oh poor Aly." (On a side note, I think that pitying someone is rather useless if you're just going to stand there and be a bystander. But that's a different topic, one which I'll post about later) When I talk to my friends that go to different schools, I try to be as cheerful as possible because I want them to know that I've changed for the better.
In a nutshell, I do care what people think about me; not every single person, but the ones I'm closest to or have became close to. Deep down I know I can't control how others see me, but it's something that over a long period of time has become entangled in my own nature.
I'm slowly learning how to find a balance in joy and pain, as well as good days and bad. I know now that there are times where I need to swallow my own pride and allow people to give me a hand, because I cannot do everything alone. People change, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst, but the ones that truly appreciate you for just being you will always be there. When it all comes down to it, it's not healthy to stuff everything under the rug. You have to let it out every once and awhile and allow people to be there for you.
So let me be real here...
If anyone were to ask me what I really wanted right now, it wouldn't be to triple fast forward DVR style to graduation day. Despite that I'm tired of being in a fishbowl (and in a uniform, no less) I want to be able to have time to "stop and smell the roses", if you will. I actually made a list of things I wanted to accomplish before then; but I guess it's not so much what I do, but rather who I'm with.
Life has been hard at times; I often experience bouts of loneliness, missing those that so often have made me laugh or put a smile on my face. I guess that happens when three of your best friends go off to college and the other one drops you like a hot potato. In all truth, I really hate that I haven't been hugged or given someone a hug in awhile. Yes, I realize how random and weird it sounds, but I've always been a bit of a cuddlebug. I used to hug people all the time, and now it's almost become a rarity. Deep down, I mostly want to be held for the sake of being held. Is that needy? perhaps so. But I think every once and awhile it's all right to ask.
In the midst of everything, I've begun to see who my real friends are. There's a saying of mine, where "people come in and out of your life, but the truest of friends are the ones that wait in the doorway." Granted, I don't see them very much since we go to seperate schools; yet I believe I've come to appreciate them very much because of it. Those are the ones that I'd like to spend my last couple of months of high school with. And then there are those who I haven't really talked to in awhile, and would love to reconnect with, even if it comes down to the remaining months of the summer.
It's hard to come up with an exact definition of what "being real" actually means. The way I view it, you just have to live and let be.
February 18, 2010
Athletic Admiration
I come from a big family from sports lovers and participants; pretty much everyone has either been involved in football, basketball, hockey, track, cheerleading, softball/baseball, soccer, gymnastics, wrestling, volleyball...or a mixture of all of them. My Grandfather has been a Bears season-ticket holder since the sixties, and I recently just went to one for the first time this past October. Despite being somewhat of the black sheep in the family as far as actually playing sports goes, they have always remained an integral part of my life.
As a youngster, I didn't come to appreciate and admire the hard work and dedication of athletes until I was in eighth grade. When my brother started playing football, he eventually did get moved up with older kids because of his speed and size. Unfortunately, I didn't take notice of his talent due to sticking my nose in a book almost every Sunday that he had a game. When my sister started playing soccer I rarely, if ever, went to any of those.
As a freshman in high school, he was given a spot on the junior varsity football team and moved up to varsity the following year (only one of two sophomores, might I add). I believe he's either a fullback, or a halfback...maybe both? I do know he's in the back field though. Anyway, I wore his jersey all of my junior year and the majority of this past season; and let me tell you, I was proud of it!! Most girls wear the guys' jerseys because their either their girlfriends or just for the sake of doing so, but I was proud to be his sister. And just so everyone knows, I still am.
He's also heavily involved with wrestling and is current going down to compete in the state finals. Truth be told, I didn't quite comprehend or understand the concept of hard work and dedication until now. He's faced many obstacles this season, between fighting off bells palsy and cutting about twenty pounds (and staying that way) for the last three months or so.
Both my sister and my cousin are cheerleaders; for anyone who says that cheerleading isn't a sport, go to one of the competitions and actually watch what they do. It takes practice, skill and focus to have the ability to pull off stunts like that. In a sense, it's almost like acrobatics. I'll admit that I was nervous the first time I watched my sister compete.
I do get nervous for both of my siblings; it's always bothered me watching my brother get tackled (there were moments when I even shut my eyes) and whenever he would get injured (though they were minor) I would always be biting my nails praying Dear Lord, please still let him be able to play! As cheesy it sounds, sports do get personal for me when it involves watching a family member out there on the field, court, or wherever. I still can't watch his wrestling meets (at least to a certain degree) because even when he's in control of the match, I still cringe watching him get put in a headlock.
I also have friends that are deeply involved in athletic activities as well. Whenever I got the chance, whether it was because we had an off week or an away game that I just didn't feel like going to, I would always go and watch two of my guy friends play football at the local high school that I would've gone to. It was a ton of fun (the crowds are more lively and it would sometimes get crazy) but difficult to watch at times; I could only fathom what they would be feeling while being out there (and to say the least, it wasn't in a good way). There are also friends who play basketball that I would go and watch the games.
If all of the above might sound strange to some (especially in regards to those who I don't go to high school with) it was because they're my friends and I wanted to support them one way or the other. Granted, we don't get to see each other that often, but that doesn't mean that I don't care about them.
Some people might ask me where I fit in with all of this; at times, I do wonder what it would be like to score a touchdown or make the winning basket for a victory. I have dabbled in sports over the course of my life, and I think my biggest accomplishment was running track the summer of my freshman year. But honestly, I'm content with being a spectator; God gives each of us different gifts and talents, and we're not all meant to be good at everything. So I just choose to focus on the fact that I've been blessed with the gift of creativity and words :) Plus, it would be difficult for me physically, and I just don't have the energy for it.
All in all, I am incredibly proud of so many people, both friends and family. You guys do more than I ever could and I admire you so much for it :)
As a youngster, I didn't come to appreciate and admire the hard work and dedication of athletes until I was in eighth grade. When my brother started playing football, he eventually did get moved up with older kids because of his speed and size. Unfortunately, I didn't take notice of his talent due to sticking my nose in a book almost every Sunday that he had a game. When my sister started playing soccer I rarely, if ever, went to any of those.
As a freshman in high school, he was given a spot on the junior varsity football team and moved up to varsity the following year (only one of two sophomores, might I add). I believe he's either a fullback, or a halfback...maybe both? I do know he's in the back field though. Anyway, I wore his jersey all of my junior year and the majority of this past season; and let me tell you, I was proud of it!! Most girls wear the guys' jerseys because their either their girlfriends or just for the sake of doing so, but I was proud to be his sister. And just so everyone knows, I still am.
He's also heavily involved with wrestling and is current going down to compete in the state finals. Truth be told, I didn't quite comprehend or understand the concept of hard work and dedication until now. He's faced many obstacles this season, between fighting off bells palsy and cutting about twenty pounds (and staying that way) for the last three months or so.
Both my sister and my cousin are cheerleaders; for anyone who says that cheerleading isn't a sport, go to one of the competitions and actually watch what they do. It takes practice, skill and focus to have the ability to pull off stunts like that. In a sense, it's almost like acrobatics. I'll admit that I was nervous the first time I watched my sister compete.
I do get nervous for both of my siblings; it's always bothered me watching my brother get tackled (there were moments when I even shut my eyes) and whenever he would get injured (though they were minor) I would always be biting my nails praying Dear Lord, please still let him be able to play! As cheesy it sounds, sports do get personal for me when it involves watching a family member out there on the field, court, or wherever. I still can't watch his wrestling meets (at least to a certain degree) because even when he's in control of the match, I still cringe watching him get put in a headlock.
I also have friends that are deeply involved in athletic activities as well. Whenever I got the chance, whether it was because we had an off week or an away game that I just didn't feel like going to, I would always go and watch two of my guy friends play football at the local high school that I would've gone to. It was a ton of fun (the crowds are more lively and it would sometimes get crazy) but difficult to watch at times; I could only fathom what they would be feeling while being out there (and to say the least, it wasn't in a good way). There are also friends who play basketball that I would go and watch the games.
If all of the above might sound strange to some (especially in regards to those who I don't go to high school with) it was because they're my friends and I wanted to support them one way or the other. Granted, we don't get to see each other that often, but that doesn't mean that I don't care about them.
Some people might ask me where I fit in with all of this; at times, I do wonder what it would be like to score a touchdown or make the winning basket for a victory. I have dabbled in sports over the course of my life, and I think my biggest accomplishment was running track the summer of my freshman year. But honestly, I'm content with being a spectator; God gives each of us different gifts and talents, and we're not all meant to be good at everything. So I just choose to focus on the fact that I've been blessed with the gift of creativity and words :) Plus, it would be difficult for me physically, and I just don't have the energy for it.
All in all, I am incredibly proud of so many people, both friends and family. You guys do more than I ever could and I admire you so much for it :)
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