I don’t recall other first days of the school like I remember my first day of college. Graduating from high school at 17, to enter college two months before my 18th birthday did not worry me. Categorizing me as smart, and noting I made friends with little effort did not help me on my first day as a college student. My anxiety level was so high, I sobbed before leaving my house. I had no clue then, but I had a full-blown panic attack. After a pep talk from my sister, I got it together and made my way to school. I made it through my first semester with a B-average. However, I did not return to college for another three years.
My happiest memories as a three-year-old was the birth of my youngest brother, and the tingle I within my spirit as I danced. I still sense the tickle around my heart as I remember anticipating the experiences this delicate being would add to my life. Dancing incited my physical self-awareness. I know my scattered improvisations were absurd. But I felt good stomping, spinning and flailing my limbs to the rhythm. I now experience the same rush as my body responds to music. I think I developed better coordination. While both events are different, each one reminds me, moments are temporary, but the impact can last forever. I was in my late thirties when a psychiatrist was gauging my ability to return home after a short stay in a Behavioral Unit. She helped me recognize what is necessary to create the dynamics that allowed a flow I found favorable, where I kept the pace. Our conversation included self-esteem, confidence, safety, and what I later learned to be a Locus of Control. During her explanation for each of those topics, she mentioned personal-boundaries every time.