Yes, people have different opinions, but why does that make them a monster?
I am so tired of having people hate me for my beliefs.
I am tired of losing friends because of my political party.
I feel as though the side that is supposed to be the most accepting is the side I feel the most attacked by.
I want to be able to have civil conversations and hear other people’s ideas, but I feel as though those conversations are hard to have. The last time I tried to have a conversation with a friend that had different beliefs than me, she started to become distant and our friendship started to fizzle away.
The side that wants everyone to be comfortable and happy has made me scared to have a different opinion, but I am no longer going to keep my ideas hidden. I am a young female Republican who is tired of acting like she isn’t. I know some people won’t be happy about my beliefs, but I am tired of caring and it is something I want people to know now.
I know that I go to a liberal school and everyone in my journalism class is liberal and I am not trying to offend anyone, but I am just tired of keeping quiet.
It’s a bad feeling. No, it’s an awful feeling. Yet I find myself facing it time and again. I’m currently sitting in the car feeling almost as shitty as how I performed today in practice. I could have gone harder… I should have gone harder. How can I strive to be the best if I’m not even giving my all?
The breakdown: the set was hard, I knew it would be a challenge, so I gave up. Looking back, the emotional pain now is far worse than the physical pain I would have experienced if I just kept trying. For me, muscle fatigue, not being able to breathe, the lactic acid burning in my throat, and the pain of pushing yourself to the limit is nothing compared to the pain I go through knowing I could have done better, knowing that I’m the one holding me back. Because I didn’t want to suffer through eighty laps on a challenging interval, I am currently suffering through the disappointment and regret of knowing I am hindering my growth.
You know that feeling when the teacher pulls out a test on the reading you were assigned last night but you didn’t do it, just because you didn’t want to. Not a great feeling. This got me wondering, if we know the effect of our actions, how come we still proceed in doing the easiest thing in the moment. Why not put in the ten minuets to read a chapter and feel confident when the teacher pulls out the test? Why not give your all in a work out, suffer through the pain and embrace it, to experience the rush of endorphins after and the confidence knowing you did your best?
After reflecting on my errors and embracing the sucky emotions I am feeling right now, I have a goal. Every time I feel like skipping a fifty, reading spark notes instead of the book, going easy instead of all out, not doing what I should just because I don’t want to, I am going to think. Think of how I will feel in the future, and ask: Is the emotional conflict that will take place in the future worth just doing whats right?
At 11:59 p.m., Friday, January 18th in Santa Barbara, I was still seventeen years old.
I spent the last sixty seconds of my childhood in a Lyft with all my best friends going back to my aunt’s house after just watching Escape Room and I was truly happy.
But, as the clock struck 12, I was no longer a minor. I was eighteen years old and officially an adult.
During every single birthday, my family always asks me if I feel older at all. Usually, I don’t, because there usually aren’t any changes that happen that make me feel older. I know that as a sixteen year old I was legally allowed to get a driver’s license, but I didn’t get one and I still don’t have one because I haven’t found any reason for it. At seventeen, I was able to go to a rated R movie, but I always went to those anyways.
However, when I turned 18, I truly, finally felt older right away than ever before.
I know I’m a year older, but it happened only in a day. From 11:59 to 12:00, it suddenly hit me that I was a legal adult.
On my 18th birthday, I went and got a cartilage piercing and I didn’t need my parents to sign my release form. I was old enough to do it by myself. Then, I went and bought a scratcher ticket, and when they asked for my ID, I was able to satisfyingly show it to them and buy it. I didn’t win any money and I don’t plan on buying one again, but it was the experience that made me so happy because I finally can buy one if I wanted to. For the first time on my birthday, I finally felt older.
My birthday itself was amazing too. I remembered last year I was on a train up to Santa Barbara, breaking down because the mudslides kept me from having a birthday celebration with my friends. This year, I spent the whole weekend with my best friends in Santa Barbara and Santa Monica. My two worlds came together and my friends from OVS and my friend from my old school finally met for the first time. We were out until midnight laughing crazily on all the rides at Santa Monica Pier without a care in the world. My birthday weekend was also full of delicious meals, amazing desserts, and all my family and friends. My cousin was even able to come to the brunch celebration on the Sunday afterwards, she usually is never to come to those events because she’s so busy, but it was amazing.
I know my eighteenth birthday will always be one I remember and though I’m horrified about the fact that I’m no longer a minor and that I actually feel older, I’m happy about it.
My best friend and I got off of the Metro at 11 AM in Pershing Square, Downtown LA, only to see tens of thousands of other people fighting for social justice. At the Women’s March 2019, we felt fierce and we felt empowered. My best friend and I met up with 6 more of our friends and we walked up five blocks, only to march back down them. When we walked up the streets we took the time to read signs, admire, and basque in all the people’s glory who were marching the other way. And when we marched down, the world did the same. Our time had come, our voices needed to be heard.
When the larger groups sorts quieted out, we took it upon ourselves to start yelling our own chants. The Women’s March gave us, the people, an outlet to feel supported and surrounded by individuals we had never met, yet felt so connected with, a bond many people couldn’t make in a lifetime. After chanting “My body, My choice” and being met with numerous other voices, some of my friends, some of kind strangers yelling back, “Her body, Her choice.” A woman yelled to me and my friends, “Thank you for your energy!” I knew we had the power to change the world if we put our minds to it, I was reminded of all the endless opportunity out there.
The Women’s March introduced us to people we never have met and likely will never meet again who empower us and didn’t know us but I can assure you the people there were some of the strongest, most passionate people I had ever seen. People of every color, gender, and sexuality came together to “fight bigotry and discrimination in all their forms” and because of them, I have not only hope, but incentive for my friends and I to be the one’s who change the world.
Sometimes, if you want things to be done right, you have to do them yourself.
Someone told me later, “Your generation gives me hope.”
That is the most fulfilling thing anyone has ever told me, thank you so much, kind woman. My generation gives me hope too. ❤
I’m graduating in less than 18 weeks. 18 weeks seem like a long time, but, when I think about all the things I will be doing from now until may 31st, it suddenly isn’t that far away anymore.
I haven’t gotten a single college acceptance yet. I haven’t gotten rejected, either, but that only means that I’m just as far away from knowing where I want to go next year as I was two months ago.
In a few weeks, I’ll be performing in my last ever musical here. I’ll be going on my last ever ski trip with this school. I’ll be going to my last ever prom, probably without a date. I’ll be playing at my last ever talent show (with no talent, still), and I’ll be going to my last ever OVS graduation, but this time it’s mine.
I’ll be walking down the stairs, sit lined up with my classmates on stage, get my diploma, and then that’s it. That’ll be the end of my past four years that were such an important chapter in my life and that contributed to so much of my personality. That’ll be it.
But, before that happens, there are so many more weekends to spend watching movies in the lounge, many more camp trips to go on and freeze my a** off, many more mental breakdowns over tests and AP’s to endure, horse shows to go on, story deadlines to miss, town trips to spend at Bliss getting frozen yogurt, sunsets to watch from the soccer field, and memories to make.
I won’t lie and say that this school and my life here is perfect. There are many things that I would like to change, but I don’t want to get into that now. Because there are so many more things that I am thankful for. Again, my time here hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been amazing. And in 18 weeks, it’ll be over, that’ll be it. And then, it’s time for another chapter.
I wasn’t sure what to say tonight, so I decided to comment on a few things I found while flipping through my journals. Enjoy:
November 3, 2015: Middle school is hard.
(This one made me giggle.)
March 6, 2016: Being carefree is not the same as being careless.
(Not sure what prompted me to jot this down. I probably thought it was a lot more profound back then, but I guess it’s still a valid point.)
April 5, 2017: I got hit in the eye with a baseball today.
(I remember it like it was yesterday. Ouch.)
November 20, 2018: TOO MANY FEELINGS AT ONCE! WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE AND YOUNG!
(This one was written in capitals and had some vigorous underlining. I like it.)
December 4, 2018: I’m just so different than I was before. But I think that’s a good thing, somehow.
(Yay for personal growth!)
December 23, 2018: Some people are just easy to love, and easy to fall in love with. They are both my favorite and least favorite kind of people.
(haha no comment.)
January 6, 2019: “Wish I was there, wish we’d grown up on the same advice, and our time was right…”
(These are Frank Ocean lyrics. MAN, I wish I could write songs like Frank Ocean.)
Sometimes I write down the random thoughts that pop into my head. It’s kind of cool to see how they have evolved over time. That’s all for now.