Thriving

Based on a true story

When you grow up constantly being told that you will never amount to anything, you tend to start believing them. You give up on your dreams and ultimately yourself. You lose faith that anything will ever actually get better. You make yourself comfortable in a life that isn't worth living, sending yourself down the unmistakable path of seemingly incurable depression. Everything just seems to get worse, and nothing can seem to help. The world around you begins to die, keeping you stuck where you despise being. At least that's what happened to me.

* * *

Playing with my dolls in the front room, I heard the slam of a car door signifying that my father was home. I gathered my toys out of habit and retreated to my small bedroom at the end of the hall. I shoved my toys back into the toybox where they belong, grabbing a book to replace them, and climbed onto my bed just as the front door opened. Pretending like I have been reading for a while, I listened to the footsteps approach my room until the tall figure of my father stood in my doorway. I braced myself for what was about to come.

"Cecilia, have you just been laying around all day?" his voice boomed. I stared at him with wide eyes, knowing nothing I say will help me. Rolling his eyes, he continued, "You should be more like your brother. At least he's made something of himself." My father huffed and I listened as he left to his own room.

I breathed a sigh of relief when my father was out of earshot. Setting my book down on my wooden nightstand beside my bed, I glanced at the framed photo of my brother in his graduation gown that sat next to my lamp. Cameron. He hasn't lived at home in almost three years now. He moved out right after he graduated, when I was in third grade. Cameron started living in a dorm on his college campus while he began studying law. Ever since he could talk he knew he wanted to be a lawyer. My father constantly compared me to my brother after he started law school, which is pretty unfair to an eleven-year-old. I have yet to decide what I want to do with my life, and my father can't stand it.

* * *

After years of being told that I should be more like my brother, I stopped caring about my schooling and threw myself into my work. My grades began slipping, but I didn't care. Shortly before I turned seventeen, my father told me how much of a disappointment I was. I fought so hard for the entirety of my life I tried to gain my father's love, just to be met with his cold remarks about how I could be better. Finally, I had enough and began thinking about moving in with my mother half an hour away. My father caught a whiff of my potential plans and took the choice away from me by kicking me out at the age of sixteen, forcing me to live with my mother.

Obviously, I had no problem living with my mother. In fact, I preferred living with her. I did, however, have a problem with the school I was being forced into. I had been looking forward to my senior year, considering I had a schedule full of classes I actually wanted, including college courses. But switching schools also meant a brand new schedule that I had less control over. I added my required classes to my schedule and set myself up to graduate early if I desired. After all, I only needed three credits to graduate. Things felt like they were finally starting to look up after I began my school year and made a decent amount of friends again.

* * *

Just like everything else in my life, when I finally started to feel comfortable, my world comes crashing down. And it all started with a letter addressed to a Miss Cecilia Ryeheart. Peeling the small white envelope open, I carefully retrieved the slip of paper within. In formal lettering, I was informed that I was not on track to graduate with my class. How could this be? I thought. I only needed three credits, there was no way that I was falling behind.

I scheduled an appointment with my counselor, who told me in our meeting that I was missing credits from my first high school that didn't transfer over. I was trying to graduate early, but I only had two weeks to get the records straight for my counselor to approve my graduation date. Luckily, my former counselor also switched schools and was able to pull my transcripts from my old school. My counselor had both transcripts printed out and over the following week, I continuously compared the two to find the discrepancies. Against all odds, I finished comparing the lists and having my credits transferred just in time to get my graduation approved.

* * *

Similar to many other students, I did not know what I wanted to do with my life. I had desired to go into teaching since I was little, but I was uninterested in college. I had applied to and been accepted to a nice University an hour from home, but like everything else, I was blocked by life. Shortly after being accepted to the University, I went on a camping vacation with some of my family. My luck being as bad as it is, I broke my leg within twenty-four hours of arriving at the campsite, making the rest of my trip a nightmare.

It took me eight months to heal enough to start working again, and another year for me to finally get back on my feet. I applied to an online teaching college when I was twenty-one, completing my bachelor degree at the age of twenty-two, taking just over a year to complete a four-year program.

* * *

I see the world dying around me. Riots breaking out over stupid government decisions, fires spreading along the coast, disease killing thousands, cost of just about everything rising to unreasonable rates. Me in the middle of it all, observing from the sidelines. I decided to get married in the middle of a pandemic, start my masters degree while others were dropping out, and work my butt off to save for my new family to move into our first house. Criticism from those around me only fueled my flame, encouraging me to prove them wrong.