Sure life is short, but it is full of learning experiences or profound moments. If we look hard enough, we would be able to identify something that we learned or a profound moment probably everyday, so writing this, for me, is difficult because there are so many moments that I consider profound, and because I rarely do this.
I rarely include myself in my own stories. Already, I probably set a record for how many times I used the pronoun "I" in a story.
Everyone experiences a coming of age, or at least everyone should. A stage of maturity--an awakening.
If you're on the right path as far as your job, school work, or what have you, that coming of age might be actually growing into and accepting that role and realizing that you have to keep it up.
And if you were like me, that coming of age is realizing that you have to change your life around. That you can't keep on living the way that you're living and expect to be make it anywhere or even be successful at much of anything positively productive.
Luckily for me, I noticed that a change was needed, and was definitely pass due, at a young age--much younger than usual, I suppose. I always have had a firm grip on reality, but like millions of other struggling teens, it was hard to stare at reality in the face--painful even.
At 13 or 14-years-old, bad skin was synonymous with who I was. I was disturbed--aggravated, full of blemishes, like bad skin. But when your skin clears up, you feel brand new. For me, as my skin went through a metamorphosis, so did I as a person.
I was a bad kid, I'd be the first to tell you. I was involved in things and with people I shouldn't have been involved with. I've done things that most people would pray to forget about.
My actions were regrettable, but I don't regret them--let me explain. Everything deviant that you can imagine at that age, I probably did it--or came close to it, but I don't regret them, and I will try my hardest not to forget them because they keep me humble and are partially responsible for the man that I've become.
I needed those days, and I'm thankful that I woke up before it was too late. In addition to being a deviant young teen, I wasn't performing the way I should have in school--I barely got out of the eighth grade.
But I had a role model. A positive role model. A role model who was almost the exact opposite of me. I followed his every move and still learn from him to this day. I looked in the mirror--I stared at my face and I cried. I cried because I knew I wasn't shit.
I saw my role model excelling--exceeding expectations and I witnessed what a huge gap there was between what he was doing and what I was doing.
My brother was getting 90s in his classes, he was getting scholarship offers from the best, distinguished colleges and universities, he was well-spoken, and well-liked by everyone, including teachers, who because I went to the same schools as he did, had great expectations for me because he did so well. I was one of the biggest disappointments they had ever seen, the biggest compliment that I got from a teacher was from my eighth grade English teacher. She said that I was a hoodlum, but I had a heart of gold as she shook her head in disapproval.
I realized that my brother worked harder than anyone, and hard work demands a reward. I stepped it up in a major way. I was always smart, I just applied my intelligence to different things--I didn't have to change my aim, I had to change the target.
And so I did. I dropped friends and became committed. Along the way, I found people who have shaped my life in different ways and I've developed skills that will stay with me for as long as I live.
My work isn't done--there's always room for improvement, but I'm in a far better position because of the realization of my coming of age, by embracing that profound moment.
Stories My Grandmother -- Albina Orzo Ricci -- Told Me
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Grandma Albina was only six years old, but she knew for sure she didn't
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