When I was younger, I was a reckless little girl. I always wanted to do the most dangerous things,such as rope climbing,or jumping off cement stairs. I almost acquired all the characteristics of a tomboy. I loved watching the caterpillars make their way across the distorted leaves. I enjoyed rolling around in the gloppy mud,and often came home with bloody ripped jeans. My parents however were not to happy about this. But I think the one thing that I never learned to be was expressive. Every time I had a problem with something I would run away from it. If I didn’t get along with someone, I would just keep my mouth shut. Whether it was a teacher or if I had a problem with a friend. I never learned to speak for myself. One time,I even had to get stitches on my chin and as my mother told me the nurse said she was so estranged because I didn’t even make a sound. Many other four year old girls would have yelled bloody murder; but not me. I didn’t even cry when I chipped a part of my patella in the seventh grade. When I told my dad I couldn’t walk,he laughed. I kept on insisting,until I got so frustrated tears ran down my face.Everyone at school was more concerned for me, than I was for myself. It doesn’t hurt I used to say, even though sometimes I would take so many painkillers through the day. Before I went to bed my hands would be as swollen beat red and my shoulders stiff from carrying crutches all year.
I think being brave gets you only so far in life. Looking back, I wished I was more outspoken. I wish I had the courage to say no. Then maybe today, I might have not been bullied through my high school years. I would have the courage to tell people to back off. Then maybe today, my parents would treat my like an adult and not like the same way as my teenage brother. But then again, I would not be the crazily ambitious girl I am today. I never really agreed with the quote; ” everything happens for a reason”, but I’m getting there.