Stuck in the Middle

Stuck in the middle: only 15, which makes me one of the youngest in my class,

Yet the oldest child in my family.

Stuck in the middle: living a calm suburban life,

Yet always dreaming of life in the busy city.

Stuck in the middle: part of a Catholic family,

Yet trying to determine for myself what I believe.

Stuck in the middle: always hearing about my high potential,

Yet never feeling like I quite live up to it.

My whole life feels as if it’s stuck between something great and something average; being average is what I fear most. The idea that I blend with the rest terrifies me.

Constantly dreaming- day and night- of all the greatness I want to achieve.

Staring out my window at my pool, frozen over and covered with snow during the winter,

the trees lining it glistening with ice,

I envision myself fulfilling everything I want to accomplish.

Each year, as my family spends time in the Adirondack mountains- a place of peaceful serenity- I allow myself to imagine disappearing into the surrounding nature:

cutting off contact with the world,

Living off the land each day,

The animals chirping, buzzing- living-around me

The wind howling through the trees,

The melodic lapping of the lake upon the shore.

In nature, a person can escape the walls.

Walls contain a person each day; I spend my days between walls,

wishing I was somewhere else.

I look for a way to be part of something bigger than myself, a way to contribute.

This desire to be a fraction of something great, perhaps it is the reason I’m drawn to a big city.

Nature’s relaxation and calm, it’s contradictory to the city’s energy.

Energy is that drive, that spark, that ineffable feeling, when a person feels most alive.

As I watch my parents leave for work each day,

     my mother for her job at the newspaper, my father, as a salesman,

I wonder if they too seek the energy I crave.

The occasional argument comes up between me and my parents; a product of the stubbornness we all share.

In life, acceptance is what is strived for.

Each day, as I talk with my friends,

I find myself grateful for their acceptance of me as I am: stubborn, sarcastic, and admittedly obnoxious.

A bit insecure at times.

This insecurity, I wish it wasn’t part of me.

The most important acceptance of all is acceptance of oneself.