"You seem to always want to make money without working," my mother explained to me. I didn't get defensive or deny her words; they were true. I will always vouch for the get rich quick schemes since that pretty much sums up my childhood.
The other day I was cleaning my room, when I stumbled upon some notebooks. This first page was from my English class of senior year of high school. Our teacher gave the class a writing exercise with the question: Are you a writer? Upon reading this, I had forgotten how unbelievably self-conscious I was at writing: getting C’s and D’s on my essays and even failing a final at one point. Whenever I was assigned a paper, I would beg my brother to edit them, often times pressing him to just write everything for me. He would get so frustrated that I never took the time to practice writing or to learn from my mistakes, but I had already given up on myself.
I started lifeguarding the summer before my senior year of high school at a local YMCA. I went to one school all of my life, so this was the first time that I was forced to make friends since pre-school. I always loved swimming, but more I loved the pool deck where I made a new best friend, met my first boyfriend, and another boy —but only in passing— who would later become my current boyfriend.
ALL THE FEELS