Coming of Age DRAFT

    Looking back at the person I was growing up compared to how I am now, would be like saying cats and dogs are exactly the same. In elementary school, I was that girl who would follow the crowd because I was constantly worrying about being judged by my peers. The girl who changed her personality and hung out with people who she thought were her so called "friends"just so she could fit in. If my friends had expensive Volcom backpacks I would beg and plead my parents to get me the backpack and they would, no matter how undeserving and bratty of a child I was.  Throughout elementary school, I went through many different phases that affected who I hung out with and my overall well being. I would highlight my hair and blow my parents money on all the expensive ROXY clothing that I'd wear just to look like the others. I'd stay up late texting and sometimes I got away with not doing any of my homework or important projects. Although I didn't feel proud of the person I was back then, I sure did feel good about being accepted by other people; which was my priority at the time. All this changed the winter of my fourth grade year. I clearly remember every terrifying second of what happened the day I realized I was finally coming of age.

   It was Christmas Eve and my neighbor, Noelle and I were hanging out playing Wii Sports when we both decided to draw a nice Christmas picture on the sidewalk for all the neighbors to wake up to on Christmas morning. As she excitedly ran into her house, I waited anxiously outside of her house eager to paint a nice picture for all to see. Unfortunately, I never did get to paint that picture nor did I ever see how the picture turned out. You see, as Noelle rushed into the house, she forgot to lock the bolt on her yard gate allowing her untrained German Shepherd to roam freely through the streets. At eight years old, I had no idea what to do, I was absolutely terrified. My instincts told me to run and that's all I thought about....running. I mean what else was I supposed to do bend down and pet the vicious animal? I sprinted as fast as I could toward my house pounding on the door hoping that someone would answer in time. Next thing I know, everything was a blur and I sort of knocked out. I could heard my mom yelling and screaming at my brother to get my sister into the car. I felt sweat dripping down the left side of my face but realized that sweat wasn't red and I freaked because it felt as if my face were melting.

   Rushing to the hospital, I told my mom to calm down as she constantly asked me if I was okay and that she was sorry. Finally walking into the emergency room, the aides assisted me in replacing my bloody paper towels with gauze. I remember sitting down on a cold metal table in a depressing white room with a full-body mirror. It was the first time I saw what had happened to me; a noticeably sized bump protruded on the right side of my head and the left side of my cheek torn open as if someone ripped off my skin. I looked pretty nasty, not going to lie. After a few minutes of staring at myself, the doctor walked in bringing with him a needle to sew my face back together. Uggh just thinking about it disgusts me. When he finished stitching up my face, all I could think about was what the girls at school would say about my face when we got back from winter break. I thought about how many people would stare at me the following morning when we attended Christmas mass. By the time we got home, it was half an hour till Christmas day and Noelle was sitting on our porch with red puffy eyes and tears dripping down her face. She had waited for me even though she didn't need to, and told me that she was extremely sorry and had given her dog away. Even if he wasn't the friendliest of dogs, I knew how much that dog meant to her and giving away her dog must have been really hard for her but I know she did it because she cared about the safety of everyone. She gave up something she loved just to make everyone else happy and this was what had put everything in perspective for me.
 
   It wasn't in my plan to spend Christmas Eve stuck in the hospital but I'm glad I did. It was the best present I had ever gotten for Christmas by far. I was blessed with the gift of growing up and realizing that life isn't about impressing others, but simply living life to find what makes you happy and to share that passion with others. Through my experience, I learned to not let what others think of me impact the way I live my life, to just be myself. I use the scar on my face to remind me of the person I was once was and how those experiences made me into the person I am today. Although I still am a bit spoiled, I've come to to realize that materialistic things don't matter because in the end it doesn't matter what kind of clothes you wear or what what brand name items you own, people are going to remember for who you are and what you did for others and that's what truly matters to me. Growing up is a part of life that all humans go through; whether we like it or not we all hit that point in our lives where we finally "wake-up" so to speak and realize that life is not all fun and games anymore.