Being 24, I think it's safe to say I know a lot about being a teenager and all that things that go hand in hand with it, having lived through it not too long ago.
One thing I've learned, unfortunately the hard way, is that most of the people you're friends with in high school the day after graduation it's likely you'll never see them again. Ok that's a lie, maybe you'll spend that whole summer before going off to college with one another playing the whole "we'll be best friends forever," card or "nothing's going to change between us," and "we can make it work two hours apart." Wrong. Now that's not always the case, but 90% of the time, you're wrong. Things won't be the same, people lose touch. Even with all this technology now-a-days, it's not enough. That's life.
Now, I'm sure you'll stay in touch the first one or two years or so but slowly things will change. You'll get new friends; face time and phone calls with your old friends will become short and scarcely. You'll start dating other people. Lets face it we're all human, sexual beings, and being away from your significant other while most of you are probably sexually active (it's 2011, sex is like a handshake) isn't the ideal situation when you're only seeing your significant other on major holidays and vacations. You'll begin to learn that you're not the same person you were in high school. And that's okay!
College is where you find out who you are. You "find yourself" as most people like to say. When you go off to college you can be whoever you want. You create yourself.
So why am I writing about this being out of high school for five years now? I hear too often from high school kids that their worry about college is that they won't find friends like they have in high school or find that girlfriend or boyfriend who they're so "deeply in love with."
Nothing is more frustrating than seeing someone in high school think that's their whole life. It's not. I promise you. College was the best four years of my entire life. Cost me an arm and a leg, but the party was worth it. These are the people you're going to be friends with forever. These are the bridesmaids at your wedding.
Now before people start getting all crazy yes, there is alway that exception that happens where two people really are "high school sweethearts" and stay together forever and there are those true friends that stick with you through all the ups and downs. But they're limited. I promise you there is so much more to life than small town living.
My only advice I can give to people is to take like for all it's worth. Life is too short to wonder. Base all of your decisions solely on yourself and do what is going to better your life. It may sound selfish, but realize no one else is making a decision based on you. Great friends, whether 10 miles or 1500 miles away will stick with you and that "can't eat, can't sleep reach for the stars over the fence" kind of love, will conquer all.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I was going through my documents that are saved to my computer and found was entitled “Mirror, Mirror.” For some reason I have always been particularly proud of this assignment. I figured I’d share…enjoy.
At 1:15 pm, things are ok. "My hair looks nice today,” I think to myself as I push my bangs to the side. With minutes passing, my hands begin exploring the rest of my body. My fingernails are the first things I notice: my short, fat, fingernails.
Second, those pores, people are going to mistake me for a chain smoker. It looks like I have more pores on my face than your average Massachusetts street. At least if my face was Commonwealth Ave, my cubby cheeks would be a good cushion for the bumpy ride.
On a more positive note, my eyes and mouth must compete to be named the best part of my face. My teeth, pearly white and never before braced in metal are surrounded with lips not to big or too small, but just the right size. My eyes, caked with mascara can rock any pair of sunglasses. And let’s be honest, who can resist a brown eyed girl?
As my eyes inspect the rest of my body it all begins to unfold. My chest, the only thing I ever got straight “A’s” in and a birthmark shaped like the state of Maine, that I’ve grown fond of over the years. As I get to my stomach, I always cringe. I turn to my side and look into the mirror, “If only I was a littler smaller here,” I poke at my lower belly. “If only these love handles were non-existent,” I squeeze my sides. “If only my abs looked more like a six-pack than a keg,” I think. Maybe then I’d be that much closer to perfect.
My legs on the other hand are the complete opposite. Throw a pair of heels on me and call it a night. I love my legs! Long, slender, tan and they’ve always been that way.
After fifteen minutes, time is up. I realize I have just spent probably 13 of those 15 minutes tearing myself down. Why do the dislikes out number the likes? Why am I not completely happy with myself? Is it possible to love yourself inside and out wholly?
At 1:15 pm, things are ok. "My hair looks nice today,” I think to myself as I push my bangs to the side. With minutes passing, my hands begin exploring the rest of my body. My fingernails are the first things I notice: my short, fat, fingernails.
Second, those pores, people are going to mistake me for a chain smoker. It looks like I have more pores on my face than your average Massachusetts street. At least if my face was Commonwealth Ave, my cubby cheeks would be a good cushion for the bumpy ride.
On a more positive note, my eyes and mouth must compete to be named the best part of my face. My teeth, pearly white and never before braced in metal are surrounded with lips not to big or too small, but just the right size. My eyes, caked with mascara can rock any pair of sunglasses. And let’s be honest, who can resist a brown eyed girl?
As my eyes inspect the rest of my body it all begins to unfold. My chest, the only thing I ever got straight “A’s” in and a birthmark shaped like the state of Maine, that I’ve grown fond of over the years. As I get to my stomach, I always cringe. I turn to my side and look into the mirror, “If only I was a littler smaller here,” I poke at my lower belly. “If only these love handles were non-existent,” I squeeze my sides. “If only my abs looked more like a six-pack than a keg,” I think. Maybe then I’d be that much closer to perfect.
My legs on the other hand are the complete opposite. Throw a pair of heels on me and call it a night. I love my legs! Long, slender, tan and they’ve always been that way.
After fifteen minutes, time is up. I realize I have just spent probably 13 of those 15 minutes tearing myself down. Why do the dislikes out number the likes? Why am I not completely happy with myself? Is it possible to love yourself inside and out wholly?
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