I became an adult on Monday, June 15, 2015 during my AP Writing class, standing in the sweltering heat, completing 50% of my term 4 grade.
It was a Moth presentation, based on the Moth radio hour. We all had to plan out a story to tell, something personal with a message that would resonate universally.
I swallowed my fear and an illusion of pride, looked out at the teenagers I had spent years of classes with and, in short, told them the truth. For those five to seven minutes I let my façade slip and I let the words I had always been too afraid of admitting to all but my closest friends be spoken with confidence. I forced my voice to fall into a rhythm and I talked about the defining majority of my young life: my depression, my anxiety, my panic.
In that moment I stopped pretending to be okay. I talked about vomiting every morning, about cutting myself and wanting to die, crying myself to sleep, not eating, having to quit theatre, feeling worthless and unloved. And saying those words made me stronger.
Feelings of inferiority and are, unfortunately, all too common at BLS, a school that prides itself on rigor and competition - so although my contemporaries do not experience the same incapacitating mental roadblocks that I do, they were able to understand where I was coming from. Far from seeing me as weak or broken, my …show more content…
Perhaps to my parents I will always be one who talks too loudly and cannot meet the goals they set for me, but Western adulthood signifies independence, a break from being bound to the ideology of one's parents. In keeping with this tradition, my movement to adulthood solidified a shift in my loyalties from the water of the womb to the blood of the covenant. It is no longer my responsibility to be a vessel for my parents' dreams. The only best I need aspire to is my own, the only recognition I need earn is from my friends and
It was a Moth presentation, based on the Moth radio hour. We all had to plan out a story to tell, something personal with a message that would resonate universally.
I swallowed my fear and an illusion of pride, looked out at the teenagers I had spent years of classes with and, in short, told them the truth. For those five to seven minutes I let my façade slip and I let the words I had always been too afraid of admitting to all but my closest friends be spoken with confidence. I forced my voice to fall into a rhythm and I talked about the defining majority of my young life: my depression, my anxiety, my panic.
In that moment I stopped pretending to be okay. I talked about vomiting every morning, about cutting myself and wanting to die, crying myself to sleep, not eating, having to quit theatre, feeling worthless and unloved. And saying those words made me stronger.
Feelings of inferiority and are, unfortunately, all too common at BLS, a school that prides itself on rigor and competition - so although my contemporaries do not experience the same incapacitating mental roadblocks that I do, they were able to understand where I was coming from. Far from seeing me as weak or broken, my …show more content…
Perhaps to my parents I will always be one who talks too loudly and cannot meet the goals they set for me, but Western adulthood signifies independence, a break from being bound to the ideology of one's parents. In keeping with this tradition, my movement to adulthood solidified a shift in my loyalties from the water of the womb to the blood of the covenant. It is no longer my responsibility to be a vessel for my parents' dreams. The only best I need aspire to is my own, the only recognition I need earn is from my friends and