Once upon a time, when I was a young girl, my mom told me not to go outside but who was I to listen. She headed off to work, as I looked out to see if the coast was clear, she was gone. I went to play with the other neighborhood kids, as soon as I thought the day was going to be too amazing outside in the hot sun, it only started to get worse. I could feel the wind in my hair and the heat on cheeks, when you think it was good it really wasn’t. Being out of the house for the time being I was getting dirty and began to get scratches on my arms and face. Unfortunately, my stubbornness got the best of me, I was told not to go outside because I was grounded. I just couldn’t stand seeing all the other kids having fun, laughing, and playing. But I knew what I was signing myself up for when I took those steps out the door, I should’ve listened but hey, what would you do if it was a pretty summer day and all the kids were outside while you are in the house. But it was a risk I was willing to take, some would fear the trouble they were going to be in well not me. Therefore, we played tag for about thirty minutes, ‘me’ not paying attention to time my mom got off in the next couple of hours. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and I stumbled, while tripping over my feet and ‘’BOOM’’ I hit the tree in the yard. …show more content…
Not realizing how I was walking and standing, still dazed by the hit from my smacking the center of the tree with my large skull. Trying to figure out what was I going to tell my mom, what happened to my clothes? Scared out of my mind, I still have to clean my face. At this point I'm freaking out, still wondering what I should tell her, the truth? A lie would make it worse, I guess this is the end for me. That was the only thing that was going through my head, not knowing when I looked in the mirror, I had a cartoon knot the size of an
My whole life I’ve felt like an outsider. When I was younger dealing with a learning disability, I have had a hard time making and keeping friends even to this day. I struggle with being a follower instead of a leader. My own adoptive father verbally abused me growing up and I also had kids in fifth-sixth grade who constantly bullied me. I still am reminded of an instance when the first day of fifth grade approached: I got on the bus and these older girls started making fun of my pants saying, “She’s wearing high-waters.” I was humiliated in front of my peers every day since than during those two years. After being bullied for so long I made a vow to myself to never forget the pain inflicted upon me on a daily basis.
The students drew near as I reluctantly scurried towards the young mens bathroom where I could finally be alone. At the time, I lived in the snowy areas of northern New York, and while attending the infamous middle school, all of my worries in the world were heightened by 200%. From the first day of school, I wanted to fit in. While not even knowing what “fitting in” was, I was determined to do it. I desired to be liked by everyone around me with no worries in the world. I didn’t know that ironically, you couldn’t have both. As I tried to fit in, I noticed that others would flee from me in the halls as if I had an odor of a thousand pounds of garbage. I was confused why others would shy away from me in projects and hallways until the hints
I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of
I scratched my chin and turned off the TV. I charged my laptop and phone and headed for my bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and washed my face, Staring at myself this time I looked at the mark on my neck, It took me back to when I hit my
Bare with me for another blog post about volleyball. This weekend was the Badger Region Volleyball Tournament, which my team participated in. When I walked into the building, the memories flooded in with scenes from the elevator adventures, cheese fries, and design your own sweatshirts. The first day, my team didn't play up our full potential, with my team only winning one out of three matches; which meant that we didn't place in any of the brackets, meaning zero chance of receiving a medal. However, at the end of the second match, I got switched from being middle all-around to libero ( a position where you only play back row on offense and defense). I guess it's an honor, but it puts a lot of pressure on me by labeling me as the best passer
An outsider is someone that doesn’t belong in a particular organization or group, the orphan boy and the elk dog is a story that talks about an outsider boy that’s rejected by everyone around him because of his disabilities and difference between him and everyone around him. My personal experience about being an outsider happened 4 years ago and it was a very tough experience that I hope I’d never go through again.
Get me out of here. I know something is about to happen, I feel it in my gut. It's a setup for failure, really. A party at an estranged house on the edge of the city full of nothing but intoxicated and incapacitated teens. Something is bound to go down. I started to think of ways to get out without just bluntly saying it.
Sometimes there are books that are so hyped up that you just wonder if they're really all that good. Sometimes you find yourself disappointed, the only person out of your bookish friends who dislikes said book. Other times, you find yourself amidst the endless number of fangirls and fanboys, and you join them in shouting praises of the book off the nearest rooftop. For me, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was the latter.
For the most part when people think coming out, they think of an all at once announcement telling the whole world that you're gay, then, having a lot of long emotional talks with your family. They think of it as everything changing. For the most part, that's from the eyes of people who will never really have to come out as anything. As for myself, coming out was none of those things and nothing seemed to have really changed at all. For me it was something that took a lot of learning, but in the end it was well worth it.
Matthew is my best friend, my fiancé, my partner in crime, my rock, my guide. Everything anyone could ever ask for in a significant other. I consider myself the luckiest person in the world to have him.
From a young age, I was referred to by numerous as a difficult child. Everywhere I went I would constantly be boisterous and disruptive. Of course, I didn’t act disruptive intentionally, I simply couldn’t help saying everything that came to my mind the minute it came to me. Due to this behavior of mine, I had trouble staying involved in activities, such as sports and scouting. Without these hobbies, I had trouble fitting in with the other kids. What made this even harder was that I moved every two years, which meant I had to make new friends every two years. However, all of this changed when I moved to Huntsville, Alabama.
As a child, I was labeled by anyone who looked at me. Why? Because I was different from all of the other kids. I was raised in a very strict religious family, and because of that, I was unable to do or wear many things that most kids would normally do. I was not allowed to wear pants or have my ears pierced, I could not play around with makeup or go to the movies, I wasn’t even allowed to go to public school because of it. This religion controlled my whole life and I didn’t even believe in it. People who didn’t even know my name considered me as a freak. Living that way was never my decision, but that didn’t stop them from labeling me and it didn’t make the names they called me hurt any less.
For much of my life, I’ve learned what it means to be the child between two siblings: conflict and isolation. Apart from the very earliest years, my older sister, Lauren, and younger brother, Sean, have been best buddies in the household dynamic. To this day, they spend much of their free time together, whether it be playing music, watching TV, or, most recently, going to a church separate from the rest of the household. Meanwhile I cocoon myself to my own specific interests and hobbies, and hanging with several very distinct friend groups that all reflect my differing personalities. Yet, being a brother to Sean rather than a sister offers a unique relationship that allows for differing hobbies and activities. Over the past few years,
Ever had that feeling of being trapped somewhere and you can’t get out? It’s not pleasant. A girl in my 12th grade class has always picked on me since elementary school, but one day she took it too far. I was at my locker when suddenly she grabs my arm and starts dragging me somewhere. I try to pull away or call for help, but no one comes to my rescue, they just stare at me. Eventually, she takes me to the front a janitor’s closet. She tries to shove me in, but I refuse and push back at her. However, she is stronger than me and with one push, she throws me into the closet. I look back at her and see a smirk before she shut the door, and locks it. Our school had a rat problem so within seconds of being there, I start to hear little squeaks and
Back in the day, when I remember of me being a child and it was one of the best moment I could think of my childhood that happened in the summer, where good time start it and not too far off that it sound it like that we played in the water and we figured since it is a bit hot outside i was going to six flags and having some fun with our family and friend having an enjoyable time. Few things I would say about my childhood was also the summer time, when the sun was hitting my body my mom used to worry about me a lot so I would not get dark so she would tell me to put sunscreen on all the time even on my face and in front of my friends but back when I was little I did not get what or why she was saying that but now I get it on why. Sometime when I didn’t wear the slippers my feet would burn like I was walking in a fried pan but I were to just walk in grass with my wet feet and then a few seconds later same thing happens again so it was not point of walking in the grass but I still walked. I closed my eyes one time because my mom used to surprise me with friends coming over, going to swimming and having a picnic and playing with the park dogs, it would be so much fun but we had this curfew time to get back home and the only annoying thing was the bugs and bees around us that were biting out skins off and making us scratch and the dirt we use in or the mud that we use to make sand castles out of at the beach. I tried to look up and see if I would be getting some shade anytime