The Storyteller

Every person has a story. In fact, those are usually the best stories: our own. We can even look to great literature and see that the books held in highest esteem are often reflected on the author’s own life, like Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” or Joyce’s “Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.” Maybe we like to pretend – perhaps even the great authors like to pretend - that the best stories we imagine and write are escapes from our own lives, but they aren’t. Our life is always our inspiration, is always our influence, because that is what we know best. For it is not someone else’s story or life that teaches us to express loving and dying, but our own.

So this is my story.

I was homeschooled. In a way, that one sentence explains everything. People always ask me how homeschooling was, and I always reply that it depends on your parents: it’s true.

My first disappointment with homeschooling came when I was about six. I knew I was going to be a ballerina when I grew up. I was practically made to wear pink tutus and dance everyday. Unfortunately, my parents didn't share the same view, and decided I should quit ballet after a year because it took too much time away from homeschooling.

Then I started up soccer and, consequently, I fell in love with it. I liked getting out of the house, being a part of a team, and just running with the ball at my feet. It’s kind of hard to explain how much passion you can have for something that isn’t a person, but to me, soccer was more than just a hobby. However, after a few years, I had to quit that too.

Then things became worse. My parents would have my younger sister and I work on our studies throughout our weekends and summers. I would be threatened that if I didn’t do my schoolwork, I couldn’t have dinner. I couldn’t lock my door, or it might be removed, and I couldn’t go to the library because I might check out a bad book. Plus, my Dad would unfortunately often yell at me when he was upset about anything, because I was the only person in the family who would stand up to him.

But the worst part was when I became serious about ice-skating. I had started it even before ballet, and I had a natural talent in it. My teachers wanted me to compete, and as for me, there wasn’t anything I liked better than the sound of ice scraping beneath my feet - it was the closest thing to flying for me. I bought professional ice-skates and practiced for hours each week – plus it was the only time I saw my friends and had a break from studies. But then, my parents decided that that had to go too, and that broke my heart in a way.

I was suddenly stuck in the house for weeks on end and I realized that my parents had taken away everything from me that had actually kept me working on my studies: my friends, my passions, even my cd player. They couldn’t take anything more away from me, and studying more wasn’t working. So, I quit. I stopped studying, I stopped eating as much, I stopped looking forward to the next day.

After a while, my Mom became worried about me and decided to enroll me into my community college and signed me up for taekwondo. And, well, I came alive again. I got my black belt, and I received several awards at college for my almost 4.0 GPA and my involvement in social live. I became a sort of social butterfly, and was invited into top societies and clubs.

Then, earlier this year, I ran into more trouble, which is why I took a break from this blog. I wanted to transfer to a better school, and my advisor told me that I shouldn’t have a problem doing so – in fact, since I had been homeschooled, I didn’t even need to take the GED (to get a high school diploma) or the SATs. But then, a month later, he changed his mind. So suddenly, I had to take the next SAT available with two weeks to prepare. I had to take the GED too, and with the SAT and five college classes, I had only the night before to study. But I ended up receiving above average grades on the SAT, and on the GED, I received extremely high grades even though I had never finished 9^th grade.

Then I was left with about a week to write my college essays, when most people have months, and there was a chance I might not make the deadlines. However, in the end, before I was even accepted, I actually received an e-mail from an admission’s office with praise for my essay, which is apparently unheard of. In the end, I decided to go to University of Virginia. It kind of amazes me that I went from practically no high school education and some community college, to going to one of the top national universities and just about the best public university in the country.

Of course the hardest part, has been forgiving my parents. They taught me so much: not only that the people you love are the ones who can hurt you the most, but also that the people you truly love, you can never completely hate. And I love them, and I know they love me, and perhaps that’s all I need to know to forgive them in the end.

So maybe I’m just naturally smart and lucky. Maybe those years of homeschooling really did prove their worth. But I know that’s not it – it’s that I chose what I wanted and went for it. There wasn’t a day when I didn’t want to give up, but I realized that I shouldn’t let my situation determine my life. Sometimes we just have to realize what we want and go after it and get it because we might not get another chance. And, more importantly, we’ve got to be so stubborn that people’s opinions don’t sway us – and realize that for every will there really is a way.

So this is my story, told to you. Because, after all, if a story isn't told, then it ceases to exist.

(feel free to comment!)