The Worst 4 Years of My Life

In movies, high school is depicted as a place where time in between classes is infinite at lockers, cliques are a definite, there's always a lot of people, and most of the time, teachers are supportive. These movies always demonstrate a sense that high school is your whole life, and the things you do in high school dictate who, and what, you'll be in the future.

My high school wasn't entirely a high school. It was a place for us to do both high school and college classes for free in order to graduate with a college degree early. There wasn't a lot of people, maybe less than 200, and my graduating class was 25. There were only five minutes in between classes, we didn't have lockers, and most of my teachers could care less about who I was as a person just as long as I got the work done on time.

For some of us, maybe these times held some wonderful memories, but for me and many others, not so much.

Each high school differs from one another, whether you have or don't have lockers, whether your teachers care or not, or whether you have a lot of time in between classes or you have to sprint just to get there on time. Despite this, we can agree on one thing: High school is a learning experience, and not just in the academic kind of way.

My freshman year started out uncertain like everyone else's. The whole point of me going to a smaller school wasn't just for the academic benefits of graduating early, but to get away from the people who bullied me relentlessly in middle school.

I was the girl who wore all black and listened to heavy rock. It was so painfully obvious that I was depressed, and starving myself just as much as I self-harmed. Because of the bullying, I was ready to fight anyone who even looked at me the wrong way. It's so strange because looking at me now, you wouldn't see any trace of that girl, but she was me.

I spent my freshman year getting to know the people around me and realizing that going to a smaller school didn't dissipate my problems, if anything, it escalated them.

A smaller school meant more people knowing your personal business. It also meant that people were more likely to judge you harshly since there were less people to focus on. Being young didn't stop my teachers from passing judgement on who they thought I would grow up to be, nor did it stop my peers from thinking the same way.

I was a Filipina living in a predominately Caucasian community, and I didn't conform to the standards of what people thought Asians were supposed to look and act like.

We lived in a small town in the middle of nowhere, and everyone grew up together, except for me. I wasn't used to the woods, or being so far from everything. I was used to walking to the grocery store, traffic, and bright lights.

Four years felt like a long time to go through, and I spent those years being told by adults that high school was going to make or break me, and that my grades and homework would determine my chances of success. I was told by my peers that I was stupid, that all I did was copy off of someone's work, and my dreams of doing anything remotely successful was out of my reach. I was always looked down on.

I tried to talk to someone but I was always told, "Other people have problems too, you know." And while yes, this is true, I really needed help from the environment I was being raised in.

There had been many rumors and misconceptions about me, and it almost seemed as if everyone had turned my life into a game, or movie. What was the truth? It seemed as if everyone knew who I was, but at the same time, not really. I would get messages from people in a neighboring high school, people I didn't even know, asking me if I was a lesbian, if I really killed someone, or if I had slept with some girl's boyfriend.

Despite the fact that in reality, people didn't revolve their life around me just to make me miserable and that maybe not everyone hated me like I thought, it sure felt like it. Everything started meshing together until my problems from school and home became a giant blob of depression.

By the end of senior year I thought my life was over. I had tried to commit suicide more than once, I was homeless after my mom didn't want the responsibility of a kid, my GPA was a dismal 2.4. I barely had friends, and instead of staying for my fifth year to take extra college classes, I had to graduate early. I had broken up with my then boyfriend for a final time, finally realizing that we were so incompatible and miserable. I had joined many clubs, and was in charge of one in hopes of pulling myself out of my academic slump, and soon became overwhelmed.

My whole life was falling apart, and I couldn't help but think that since it was this way, my whole life would be the same. I was so angry, I spent that last semester distancing myself from school, and everyone I knew.

I was defeated, but I was willing to give life one more try. I started attending a youth group with my cousin. I was hesitant at first because the friends I had made in school had mostly turned their backs on me, and very few had stuck around to pick up the pieces and put up with my nasty attitude.

That same semester I was re-introduced to my current boyfriend of five years, and my main supporter.

I channeled all my energy into exercising, and my new friends.

I realized that there was a whole world outside of my high school, and little town. I realized that there were so many good people willing to help me grow as a person, but most importantly, I realized that the rumors, and people's opinions were insignificant.

I spent four years worrying about what people thought I was, and who I was going to be, and had wasted time trying to fit in.

It dawned on me that people's opinions didn't shape who I was, nor did my circumstances. It was up to me to decide that enough was enough, and I had spent four years clawing my way through a mess that was my life, and I wasn't about to let someone's opinion ruin everything.

I was pretty much homeless, I had been threatened to be kicked out of school, most of the people I went to school with still probably hated me, but I had never felt more free. Going to church, meeting new people, and submersing myself in so much positivity had made me see things in a new light.

Being kicked out meant I didn't have to face an abusive home, failing school meant that I just needed to work harder, and being hated was okay. It just meant that sometimes people don't belong, and that I wasn't totally faultless, I just needed to work on expressing myself better. I had hit rock bottom, but I was okay with that, because the only way left to go was back up.

I graduated as a hot mess, but I graduated with a smile on my face and surrounded by people I cared about. My boyfriend's family took me in, and gave me a stable home, and love.

It took a couple of years, but I finally was able to go back to college and I finished my first semester back with a 4.0. I had made straight A's, and I was completely bewildered. It turned out I wasn't stupid, just depressed.

I took a risk. I made my own business and started selling clothes. When I started making money, I realized I could do so many other things as well if I put my mind into it and took it seriously.

All that time I had spent worrying in high school was nothing by this point. I didn't even keep in touch with people I had graduated with aside from a handful I casually chat with from time to time. Everyone moved on, and high school wasn't how movies made it out to be; the end-all-be-all. My problems weren't insignificant, but life is full of problems and trials, and high school was just one of the many hurdles I had to go over.

My low GPA didn't measure my success, nor did the judgement that passed between teachers and peers. Me not having loving parents didn't diminish my self-worth. I always tell myself that people who hurt other's are hurting too; everyone is hurting in some way.

Everyone will always have opinions or something to say, you just learn how to filter out the noise from the ones that really matter to you the most.

I've learned that it's okay to ask for help, and accept it when needed. It's okay to not be okay, and sometimes we just need some time to get it together because we're all just human. We don't always have answers, and we'll always make mistakes and say or do things that we don't mean.

Not everyone you meet will stay in your life, or stay your friend. Just remember that we all have different walks in life, and sometimes people just drift apart and sometimes it's for the best.

Not everything is set in stone, or black and white. Everyone moves in life at their own pace, maybe by choices or circumstances and in the end, it's important to remember that no problem really ever lasts. It may take awhile, and maybe it seems as if it'll last forever, but it won't be forever. There will be times when we can't change things, all we can do is just move forward, and that's okay too.

And for those of you who are still in high school, and dealing with your own struggles, remember it's just four years. Get the help you need, and remember you have a whole life ahead of you.

There's so much joy in life, and even through the negatives, a light can be found.