All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
False Freedom
I was just like any other elementary kid but I was famous for being the only kid who could climb the monkey bars and sit on the top bar, where no one could reach me. I got yelled at multiple times for this but how could I let down my adoring fans? Being up there made me feel free because I could look out beyond the parking lot of my dull school and see the world, (or at least a mile down orange grove drive.) I was an only child and my imagination was like a never ending stream of thought, but all that changed the day my dad started chemo. At first, my dad’s cancer didn’t affect my life at all but when he started the chemotherapy, he had to be in and out of the hospital and that left me with no one to stay with and no one to drive me to school. I had only met my grandparents on my Dad’s side of the family once or twice at family events before the moved down from Minnesota to Florida. They looked like the farming couple from American Gothic (minus the pitch fork). Their main purpose in life was to watch my every move and transport me to and from school. That was all. No talking. No playing. The freedom that I felt while I was on the monkey bars was yanked out of reach because there was so much of my life that I couldn’t control. My home life transferred over in to my school life. I stopped all communication with my friends because no one knew what to say to me. How do you tell a friend, “Hey, I’m sorry that your Dad is dying.” My Dad spent more and more time in the hospital as the year went on. I visited him every day after school but it got to a point where I didn’t want to see him because he didn’t look like himself. I was still forced to go so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings. While I was walking out of my Dad’s hospital room, one of the doctors pulled me aside and told me that my dad didn’t have much time left. I didn’t need a doctor to tell me something I already knew. I got stuck in a cycle of school, doctor’s appointments, and wishing I was home. Then, one by one, the tumors that had originally contaminated his body were shrinking to nothing. My grandparents were no longer needed to babysit me so they went back to the land of ice. I was happy about my dad getting better but at the same time, I was scared because I knew I would never be the same.
Though the years, I had a relatively normal life. I got new friends, new hobbies and I was able to feel free again. That was, until Gigi moved in with us that fateful summer of my freshmen year of high school. Gigi is my Mom’s mom who had been diagnosed with cancer and figured that because my Dad had cancer, we could help her get rid of her tumors. You see, that’s the thing about Gigi; she never makes sense. Gigi and I never really got along so I just avoided her. I would sneak though my window so I could dodge a 30 minute lecture about politics or evolution or whatever she felt like arguing that day. During all of this, I met my boyfriend, Tyler. At first, my parents were reluctant to approve because of the three year age gap but the eventually, they warmed up to him. I felt like he was the only person I could talk to about Gigi. Tyler understood what I was going though because he had leukemia. Based on past life experiences, you would think that when I hear the word cancer, I would turn and run, but it was nice to have someone understand how I felt. Gigi stayed at our house for the next three years and she kept getting worse and worse. We knew she was going to die but we just didn’t know when. At the time I needed Tyler the most, we got in to a fight about how we didn’t communicate enough. So, to prove how mad I was, I stopped talking to him. Looking back, I see the irony of the situation but I was blinded by anger in the moment. I was at a party the night my grandma died. My mom had called me to tell me to come home but that was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to live life while I still could. I wanted to feel free to do whatever I wanted and not have to think about other people first. This guy named Peirson kept flirting with me and usually I would inform him that I had a boyfriend but I just kept my mouth shut. Turns out he was visiting from Pensacola and he was going home the next day so I figured I would never have to see him again. We danced for most of the night and ended up making out in the middle of the dance floor. For the first time, I was being completely selfish and it felt great. It’s not like I planned to cheat on Tyler but sure didn’t do anything to stop it.
Of course, now I feel guilty about what I did because I know I can never take it back. I know what I did was wrong and I can’t justify it in any way but under pressure, everyone cracks. I was searching for the long lost freedom of my childhood but now I know that with age, comes responsibility. You have to always put other’s needs before your own wants.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.