Freshman year is already… well… a slippery slope.
I feel like there is so much room to fall, so much room to tumble downwards, yet also so much opportunity to rise, to open up, to become.
But how do you choose? How even start? It is all so utterly confusing, so unbalanced, to me. I am sort of at a loss to understand what exactly to do. I know that it’s only my first year of high school. I know I have a lot of time. I know college and… well, life… isn’t coming for a little while.
I don’t really have that much time, do I? Four years is actually very little in the grande old scheme of things. When I entered middle school, I had seven years of school left. Now I only have four years. Four safe, secure years, right? That’s what I think they should be, but I know they won’t be. See, there is so much pressure now. Things are becoming all too clear, too soon, too fast, too much! I know we have time. I know we have so many options, but I think that is my issue. I don’t like all of the options. I want to do everything, absorb everything, and yet, I can’t. So how do you choose what you want, who you want to be, amidst a sea of choices? The butterfly effect is oh so evident right now, it’s too persistent. One little flap of the wings leads to a hurricane.
Choices are so… complicated. At least for me, the smallest little decisions seem like they’re going to add up to be my biggest definitions of who I am. But the thing is, as rocky and trippy and strange as freshman year is, it’s also brilliant. Why? Because we all have a chance. We all have so many chances to become, to do, to see, to just… live as we please. I love the responsibility we have over our own lives. The independence is different, it’s scary, but it’s so worth it. I feel like I own myself, instead of teachers and parents and other people, I feel like I have myself.
It’s so… weird.
I hated middle school, though, so this is better by any standard. The freedom is a new sense of self, a new occasion to be whatever I want. The responsibility feels… big. Like, as I said, this is all adding up to something that I don’t know yet. I know that one day, I’ll (hopefully) figure it out.
So here we are. High school. It’s uncomfortable, it’s amazing, it’s tragic, it’s four short years. There isn’t anything more to do, only to live the best we can. So I’m going to try.
Here we go. Let’s try not to tumble too much.