I was born October 19, 1996 in Metropolitan Hospital two weeks overdue with a massive amount of meconium and amniotic fluid in my lungs. I am not completely sure about all the details, but I do know for the first three months of my life I was in an incubator.
The only way my mother could hold me was with gloves.
Due to my health I grew extremely close to my mother who played both parental roles for me. I was raised with three older sisters.
I felt different from them because of the age gap. My sisters were all two years apart whereas I was six years apart from the youngest of the three. I was also the only one who had a different father from my three sisters.
Growing up was quite confusing. Their father was constantly in their life while mine wasn’t. They tried not to treat or look at me any differently, but I still felt different. I remember my childhood in moments, a lot of them spent with my head in a book living in a different world from the one I was in.
My school life was average. I always did quite well in school, but I got the same criticism back from teachers – I was too quiet and did not participated in class enough.
I think I always had anxiety. I was nervous, constantly over thinking and worrying. When I was young I never misbehaved because I was worried about the outcome of everything I did.
I started to notice my anxiety around fifth grade when teasing became a thing. I guess I was an easy target. I was reluctant to speak and I would only fall deeper into silence when I was being bullied. I was never physically bullied, and for that I guess I’m lucky, but emotionally I felt my nervousness growing which prompted anxiety attacks.
My poetry teacher gave me a notebook and told me to write. I did, and soon created millions of worlds I could escape to. At home I was the annoying little sister, at school I was the quiet one with the baggy clothes, but in my notebook I was anyone.
High school was definitely a change.
I went to Marta Valley, and by the first week I was ready to transfer. By my sophomore year I realized my teachers didn’t care. I felt lost in the uncontrolled classrooms, and I couldn’t change to teachers I could actually learned from.
It felt like no one cared; not the staff, not the teachers, and certainly not the students – given a few. School wasn’t safe and home wasn’t helping at the time. I remember being sad a lot and not wanting to leave my bed, but never wanting to be home.
Even though it messed up my high school career, I never regretted skipping class. Missing school was the only time I felt happy. I started to become more confident, more vocal, and a little less nervous about everything.
It probably doesn’t compare to the average person, but for me it was almost like a breakthrough.
My happiness was sporadic. My mind was always jumbled with too many thoughts, and I constantly felt sad about everything: myself, my life, and the people around me. I felt their sadness and anger, and I felt it was somehow connected to me.
I know now that it was my anxiety to blame. When you are anxious you feel like there is a target on your back. Whenever someone is laughing you automatically assume they’re laughing at you. If someone is nice to you, you think they’re making fun of you.
It hard to live like that, with the idea that everyone around you secretly hates you and only tolerates you just to be nice.
After speaking to my mom I went into therapy for some time. It was a lot of talking, a lot of discussing things I never actually knew bothered me but did. I was out of school for about a year, and it gave me a lot of time to reevaluate myself and what I wanted to do.
Going back to school was a scary thought. I never wanted to go back to feeling the way I did.
My mom searched high and low for a program I would actually enjoy. She found Youth Action YouthBuild.
I liked the environment. When I entered the building I felt a comforting aura. I like the way the staff address me, and how they constantly remind everyone their voice matters. I feel like people deserve to hear that more often. It is nice to be around educators who don’t look at you and see a drop out.
Here at Youth Action YouthBuild the staff see potential and greatness.
It’s not as if being in this program made my life 100% better, or my anxiety just went away. I’m still working on a lot of things, on myself and my future. I’m still trying to speak up and gain more confidence in myself.
I think a program like YouthBuild, where they constantly try to help you become the best version of yourself, is the best place for me to become the better version of myself and have a brighter future.