The Day I Grew Up

March 31, 2011
On June of 2007 one of the happiest days of my life was about to occur, or so I thought. I was adorned in fashionable and new attire, I felt amazing. Family and friends from across the United States were here to see one person, ME. I was determined not to let them down.



However, that morning the butterflies filled my stomach. The shear thought of what I had to do trouble the depths of my soul. Breakfast didn’t taste the same; didnt’t even walk the same that morning. After an unusually long shower, I knew it was time to get ready. I slowly and deliberately put on the brand new dress that my mother had brought me. I felt my hands shaking nervously as I combed my hair. I was frazzled, and had no sense of reality. I was nervous, scared, and regretted everything I did up to this moment.



After wasting the longest hour of my life to get dressed it was time to leave the house. I leisurely inhaled and exhaled deeply with the hopes of easing my tension, but to no avail. I clenched my hands tightly to avoid my whole family seeing my nervousness, but I could not hide my face. They knew it was something wrong, but I refused to tell them what. Their look of reassurance did little to ease my growing fears.

Finally after a dreadfully long morning, the ceremony was about to begin. I walked into the auditorium one cautious step at a time, dreading that at any moment I could have collapsed. Onlookers saw my head held high, however internally I was continuously growing evermore petrified. As me and 70 of my classmates sat down, the ceremony began.

Ecstatically my classmate applauded with high esteem for there accomplishments, but I was unable to accept the joy and merriment that comes with a graduation ceremony. I was unable to get rid of the burden that has overwhelmed me so much. My heart was heavy with pain and distress over the possibility of embarrassing myself and my entire family. Nevertheless, I had a task to complete that I had regrettably accepted.

I sat in my chair with my graduation cap on and my speech in hand. The room felt like it was closing in on me and I began to get hotter. Then without delay, my eighth grade teacher, Ms. Collins, calls my name. It was time for me to give the speech that everyone was eagerly awaiting. The valedictorian farewell address was set to begin.

I slowly walked up the stage as a thunderous applause began. As I made my way to the podium all of my teachers, friends, and family yelled my name with the thought of easing my growing distress, but to no avail. The past 8 years of the lives of my classmates and I were to be summed up in 1 speech. I was supposed leave the graduates with the feeling of sincere accomplishment, pride, and gratitude for their lives in elementary school, but I could barely utter a single word. Finally, I took a deep breath and with a shaky voice I began to expound on the good times we had at school, and what each graduate could expect in the future.

I was finally finished and the whole auditorium went to an uproar, and the since of accomplishment quickly filled my heart. For the first time in days I felt happy about myself. I felt as I had overcome one of my biggest obstacles, public speaking. I felt as though I just conquered the world, but that feeling quickly changed.

As the ceremony drew to a close the graduating class of 2007 threw there graduation caps into the air to celebrate. Then we all ran to our parents for an embrace that meant, "I'm proud of you." As I ran to my family and friends I could not help but to ask, "How was my speech?" With the look of discouragement they said, "We could not hear a word you said." With that I broke out in feelings of anger, disappointment in myself, regret, and denial. My feelings of pride and accomplishment were gone with just 8 simple words. I was crushed more than anyone could ever know. All I could do was to wait until I'm alone in my room so I could cry myself to sleep. :^(





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