Childhood
New Appreciations
I sat at the bow of the boat, claustrophobic in my tight wetsuit and afraid that I might accidentally discharge my speargun into one of my flippers. The dark blue abyss mocked the timid high school kid that stared blankly back at it. I could not fathom diving forty feet down in the ocean, finding a sea bass, spearing it, and coming back up all the while holding my breath. Thoughts raced through my mind, each one progressively worse than the other. "Can I even reach the bottom? What if I can't hold my breath long enough? What if I get stuck on the bottom?" After what seemed to be an hour of making weak attempts to psych myself up enough to get in, I felt two hands on my back then a surge of chilly water engulfed my body. I looked back up at the boat seeing my brother grinning from ear to ear.
By Max Davidson4 years ago in Confessions
A letter to one of my least favorite teachers
I despise her still to this day but she made me who I am today. Dear Mrs. V, This is a letter i will never give you. You were one of the teachers at my middle school and elementary school. You help kids who had ADHD. You diagnosed them and then help them. I had heard from friends who were in grades before. They were wrong. So very wrong.
By Burnt Baguettes4 years ago in Confessions
Colorado Nights
I was six years old when I rode my first airplane. I brought my Adam and Eve coloring book and my American girl doll— my two favorite toys at the moment. I was set for the long haul. Although I went in with zero fear, the turbulence and ear popping had me in a loop. I remember crying regularly throughout the flight, and looking back, I feel bad for the other passengers who were forced to endure it.
By victoria gerbholz4 years ago in Confessions
Letters Never Sent- Vol 1
April 3, 1982 Dear Chloe, You are wonderful. My whole life I have been in a series of bad relationships, well that’s not exactly true, it's really not so much a series, as a loose collection, or an anthology would be a better description. I think you need some sort of continuity to describe it as a series, and I can’t find a narrative thread between them.
By Bill Arrowood4 years ago in Confessions
An Open Letter To My Mentor
This is a letter to my mentor, the person who has changed my life, that has made me the person I am today. He has stood by my side through the long nights that I opened up to him, telling him what had happened in my life. He was the shoulder I could cry on also to be supported by the love and support that he had given me those nights. This is the story of how my life had gotten changed after a horrifying childhood that I would want no other child to go through.
By Deslyn Goodman4 years ago in Confessions
The Whole Truth: Winter Sledding Incident
As I grow older, I am starting to realize that my mind doesn't always work quite the way I think it should. In fact, it often plays tricks on me. This is the first of a intended short series of articles to highlight some of the wisdom I am gaining when it comes to understanding myself.
By Scott Stewart4 years ago in Confessions
LESSONS
For some, it’s hard to appreciate and at times see what’s in front of you. It isn’t because they’re blind, some just simply can’t see! I am not among that selection of people. I’ve been blessed with the ability to notice, see, smell and sometimes even feel what’s present. That ability extends itself to enable a future glance, (that’s what I like to call it)! Future Glance; the ability of using the data that is given to formulate an idea of what the future holds for that situation. Synonym; aware, vigilance. Sentence; The little girl acted out in such a manner, She gave me an instant future glance of where our relationship would fall.
By Courtney Battles 4 years ago in Confessions
Boyhood Bathroom Blues
Today has begun with the weirdest weather since my move to Florida. I get up early most days and always look out the window to try and get a quick view of what to expect and decide which tee shirt goes best with my cut-off jeans. I looked out this morning and could not see a thing. Visibility zero with the thickest fog I’ve ever seen. I could hear traffic 10 to 12 feet from our front porch but could not see headlights or those super bright school bus flashers.
By David X. Sheehan4 years ago in Confessions
