One Regret

This is one of the essays that I am putting in my portfolio for my English class.

I do not like to say that I have regrets; I believe that the experiences that I have had fashioned me into the person that I am today. They have shaped my idiosyncrasies, my wants and the desires of my heart. Nevertheless, if I could change a regret of mine it would be that I would not have dropped out of high school. Many factors played into my dropping out of school, some of those being, people I was associating with, home life and the way that I perceived my parents. But mostly it was my own skewed thought process.

My mother swears that as a child, I was perfect! She has told me stories of what an angel I was, and of how I did not question her authority, but obeyed immediately. Likewise, she also tells stories of when I changed. It wasn’t until I went through puberty that things started to go awry, you know the tell-tell signs of puberty. The back talking and rolling of the eyes, you couldn’t pay me enough money to go through that time in my life again. The emotions that I had as an adolescent only magnified as hormones coursed through my body. Isn’t that the case in any teenager?!
As a freshman in high school, I met my best friend Kelly; she and I clicked right away. We became very close, very quickly; it was almost as if we were each other’s family, each other’s world. I could read her like the back of my hand. There were many days that I would go to school and wait for her to get off the bus, she would just look at me and without having to say a word, we knew that we were skipping class that day. No one, especially not my family, knew me like she did or so I believed in my juvenile intelligence.
Kelly was a little more worldly than myself and my friendship with her brought me into contact with others of the same mindset. My only care was for my friends. I believe that this is normal however I took it to the extreme. This new way of thinking (or lack of thinking) made me not care about school and also made me imagine that I could survive without a high school diploma. I could get along with my new family. Eventually, when I stopped going to class I was moved to an “Alternative School”. The only people who went to that kind of school were the losers and misfits. The losers were people like me whose daily thoughts consisted of what kind of fun we would have and if that entailed some sort of partying. The misfits were the kids that didn’t fit in for various reasons; whether it was for social or academic.

There, homework was a privilege, a privilege I could do without mind you. Attendance and participation in class counted as points towards the credits that were needed to graduate. If I remember correctly, 60 points equaled one credit. As easy as that sounds, I couldn’t bring myself to do this menial task. I had more pressing things to do and I could not visualize my future beyond the day. Nonetheless with this kind of mindset I chose to miss out so many things.

Not only did I not consider my future, but I missed out on many other milestones of growing up. I missed graduating with my class, and the look of pride on my parents’ faces as I received my diploma. As well as going to my prom. I chose getting stoned over getting dressed up and taking the mandatory pictures with my date, the after party (although I am sure I found some party to go to that night).

When I was 17 years old, the Army stationed my father in New Jersey. I attended Monmouth Regional High School and I remember being in a freshmen science class and one of my classmates asked me who I had for math. She found it very strange when I told her that I didn’t have math; try and explain that you are in between a sophomore and junior. I hated the discomfort in trying to make clear just how much of a screw up I was. Evading was far easier then facing the truth. Image was all important to me at this stage of my life. It would be better that people thought I didn’t care instead of knowing that I couldn’t make it through school.
At that time I was dating a man back in California and he wanted me to move back to be with him. I had just turned 18 and decided that it was just too awkward being back in school. I signed myself out of school in anticipation of my move back to California, only to be let down. He ended up going home on leave and marrying his high school sweetheart. My parents then told me that I had two choices, either return to school, or get a job and start paying rent. I decided to get a job. Now I was an adult or so I thought! I had a job, I was paying rent ($35 a week, I want that kind of rent again), I was self sufficient. My first job after becoming an “adult” was being a cashier in a cafeteria in a government office building. I think I made $7.50 an hour.

I have had many jobs; and each has taught me a new skill that I have used in life. I have used each job has been a stepping stone, but none of these jobs would allow me to support my family should anything happen to my husband. I have worked at many retail establishments, a driving school, a dental office, a heating and air conditioning office, each one of these places I have learned and grown. Had I stayed in school my life definitely would have been different. I would have gone to college after high school and hopefully at this point in my life I would have been established in a fulfilling career. Instead, I am working in an office, making an okay wage and going to school part time as well as, taking care of a husband and two kids. Life is hard, but in a different way; a better way.

Again, I believe that life experience make up a person’s character. Had I not had some of the experiences that I did as an adult child, like living in a van with two other people, and being left stranded at a bus station after traveling across country, then I wouldn’t have the heart that I do for people, I would not be who I am today. I would be a different me. You see, I believe my compassion for people is a direct result of the hurts and trials that I have had, and it is this compassion for people that will carry me forward into the career that I have chosen. I think that because of both my choices, hurts and regrets I can be a better nurse. I can empathize with people who are in pain, whether that pain be physical or emotional. Not only can I listen with a clinical ear, but with a concerned heart. I am not sure that I could say the same if I did get my “do over”.