In Three Parts: Glasses, Part III
During the summer between eighth and ninth grade, I underwent a metamorphosis of sorts. All summer long, I bought new clothes in an attempt to change my look. Every spare dollar went toward this goal of mine. For some reason, I was obsessed with not wearing the same thing twice within the first thirty days of school. I also found myself armed with new stories after my family had spent the weeks before school in southern California on vacation. Enthralled by everything that place means, I planned on telling anyone who would listen. Finally, and most importantly, for the first time since kindergarten, I was without glasses. Now, I was wearing contacts and there was nothing that was going to stand in my way.
After being bullied throughout most of my eighth-grade year by a fellow student a year ahead of me, I wanted to make sure I was seen as a new person. I wanted to take away one weapon he constantly hammered me with on a daily basis. These silly little changes were also an attempt to find some confidence and as a way to make room for me in high school.
My contacts changed everything. Much like a physical barrier, when they fell, I was free. Filled with a new sense of confidence, I asserted myself in student council, joined the competitive speech team, tried out for theater, and I attempted to make my mark on FHS. I wanted people to know I was quick-witted, talented, and a future leader. I was filled with a confidence I had never known before and there was no looking back. Never a truly shy kid, I now felt like my true self.
Over the next four years, I busted out of my shell and became Nathan. By my senior year, I had become the president of the student body, reached state finals in competitive speech, acted in all four years of theater, led an opening year assembly for the student body, and worked with fellow students as our town rallied together after the September 11th terrorist acts. I feared no debate, learned to love my intelligence, and valued my insatiable curiosity above all else.
The grand experiment had worked. The kid who began high school was not the same person who left. Off to college and onto the real world, I would be forced to summon this sort of strength once again. From leading at UCO, moving to Seattle, coming out, LA, hiking, writing, exploring, and Seattle all over again, I was able to chase this dream because of the confidence I discovered while making the slightest of changes.
Be good to each other,
Nathan
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