I drove back home with tears in my eyes, and hardly left my room once I arrived there. Every time a friend texted me how it went, I would break down anew, and could not bring myself to reply. I had just missed something that would have added so much to my last year of school. All of my friends were in band, and I would be spending Friday nights and competition Saturdays alone. I wouldn’t be taking long bus rides on school days to go march in parades. I would be in the bleachers during pep-rallies, rather than putting on the performance. For a long time, I couldn’t forgive myself. Every time a student walked past me with an instrument case, or my friends had sheet music out on the table at lunch, I would beat myself up over it. Why did I let myself fail? Why hadn’t I prepared more? This would go on and on, until one day I decided it was enough. I was just human, and humans make mistakes. Sure, I didn’t do everything I could have and I let myself down, but it was okay now. I needed to stop torturing myself over it. I had to forgive my own mistakes and move …show more content…
For most of my life, I could simply rely on things I had learned once. I never studied in middle school, and made straight A’s. I never really practiced for band at home, because I was already first chair and never felt I needed it. Now I realize the immaturity of that mindset. It is always best to study, practice, and re-examine the details of any task you wish to complete satisfactorily. If I had worked more to practice and regain my percussion skills over the summer, or even kept up practice during the year that I