Glory Days

Today I started reading The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky.  Two pages into this book I had tears in my eyes and laughter filling the room.  It made me yearn for more and I have already gotten halfway through in just a few short hours.  Every word in this piece is so heavy that one cannot help but feel deeply impacted.  I came to an abrupt stop halfway through page 52 when I read the following:

“I always wanted to be on a sports team like that.  I am not exactly sure why, but I always thought it would be fun to have “glory days.”  Then, I would have stories to tell my children and golf buddies.  I guess I could tell people about Punk Rocky and walking home from school and things like that.  Maybe these are my glory days, and I am not even realizing it because they do not involve a ball.”

I can relate to this excerpt immensely.  The moment I read it I actually burst into tears because of the severity of the realization it had given me.  I have spent the better part of my life almost feeling sorry for myself because of everything that I have “missed out on”.  I was never popular in school and I was not any good at anything other than academics, and as a result everything was short lived for me.  I quit cheerleading because I could never meet the expectations of my coaches or teammates, and my lack of popularity caused me to stop putting myself out there; I gave up trying to make friends because even when I did I could never keep them, and I stopped going to club meetings because I had no one to talk to or even sit next to.  When I moved away to college I had the same “loner” frame of mind which did me no good.  I have always thought about all of these negative situations in a “poor me” kind of way and whenever someone mentions highschool I always chime in, “Highschool was awful, I hated it.”  Reading the words of Chbosky put life into an entirely new perspective; perhaps I am just focusing on the wrong parts of my life.  When I think about it that way I can find so many positives that I feel ashamed to have ever pitied myself.  Most of my favorite memories are from my high school days.  No, I was not the popular cheerleader who had guys falling for me right and left, I did not shop with a clique of friends on my spare time.  I did, on the other hand, spend a lot of time bonding with my family.  I complain of not having friends when I have a bond with my younger brothers that match no other family.  I have read and re-read countless beautiful novels and poems that have given me more pleasure than any cheerleading practice ever could.  I had a wonderful, substantial relationship that lasted all of highschool and though it was only a childish fling I am grateful for every last memory.  My teachers throughout all of highschool became mentors to me in so many ways, and because of this I excelled in everything I put my mind to.  Looking back I miss my “glory days”.  They were, in fact, my glory days after all, even without the pom poms and posse.


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