I sit on the couch and stare at complete nothingness. I couldn't believe what I had thrown away, What I should have done, what I could have been, and how successful I could be if I hadn't of thrown my life away. It's been, almost, fifty years since I have sat in a desk. I gave up the opportunity to go to so many colleges. There is so much I wish I could say to my younger self. Maybe some encouragement, a little bit of help,and pull myself through the obstacles. There is so much I could say and remind my younger self, but there was little time.
For people to know what to do, they all have to listen. That was just the problem, when I was in middle school,I would never listen. I would do the majority of instructions correctly,yet if I did something wrong I ignored people who corrected me. My mother is a stubborn woman as well. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I would come to class sit, be prepared, stare into space, and ignore the teacher giving me commanding remarks. Because of these commanding, strict remarks it made me fear many of my teachers. Many of the teachers that pushed me, my music teachers, in the end got me to put forth the effort. My teachers and I would push me hard. So hard that it felt like I was falling off a cliff. So, in order to help out my young, maturing self I take you back to the date of May 18, 2010.
It was a warm, spring afternoon when I was working on a paper in Mrs. Simpson's English class. I was sleepy, exhausted, and quite run-down from the day. As my pencil moved lifelessly the aggression towards my music teacher, Ms. Price, grew very vibrantly. My thoughts were simple.
"Who does this lady think she is. The queen of England?"
"All she does is tell me what I do wrong; half of the time."
"You're not sitting correctly!" Ms. Price would shout.
"That's WAY to much bow Kaitlyn!" Ms. Price would screech.
All of the words, shouts, and screeches would repeat in my head until it made me cry in agony. I would do my best. I would give my 110 percent, but it just wasn't good enough. I went home everyday and practiced, for many hours I might add, but it would still be the same. I try not to make the same mistakes; unfortunately, they are tough habits to break.
That day became a living nightmare for me. At the after school rehearsal Ms. Price yelled at me frequently.
"To much this..." and "Not enough of that..."
So many things had to be told to my younger self. But, if I really wanted to say something about it now I'd probably tell myself.
"Maybe she's just picking on you because she knows you can do better. You and I both know when it comes to playing instrument it's not all fun and games. You have to try to break those tough habits, and show that your trying to improve. If that means to practice more, so be it! Just don't worry about what other people think you are your own critic."