Let me start by saying that there was nothing extraordinary about my high school years. I was a Blue Devil at Columbia High School in East Greenbush, New York (suburb of Albany) from 1991-1995 and I have mostly fond memories of this time, mixed with a pinch of teenage drama and a sprinkle of rebellion here and there. I was
sometimes a bitch had a bit of an attitude and was on occasion disrespectful to my parents. (Sorry Mom and Dad!) I had a handful of good friends who I still keep in touch with and I also had some pals who’ve drifted away over the years. I was close with my cousins and my aunt and uncle were like a second set of parents. I treasure every friendship that I ever had, no matter how brief, because I honestly believe that the person we become is largely influenced by our relationships with others and the experiences that we have throughout our lives.
My parents both read the blog and so does my grandmother so I won’t go into too much detail about particular poor choices I made during High School. We are all familiar with the kinds of things that many teenagers do and yes, I was one of those kids. I didn’t always tell the truth about where I was going or who I was going with. I sometimes skipped class. I experimented with alcohol and boys and I smoked cigarettes to try to be cool. My grades were decent but I can remember my dad always saying that I wasn’t applying myself to my schoolwork and it’s true, I wasn’t. I am not proud of everything that I did but each experience helped bring me to where I am today so I don’t have too many regrets.
Looking back now as a mom myself, I am extremely frightened about what the teenage years will bring for our household. With two daughters and a son all born within 4 years of each other, there is no doubt that the teen years will be action-packed with drama, heartbreak and tears and I am not looking forward to being on the other side of teenage mischief (or all of the gray hair that will inevitably come with it). Karma be good to me.
I do recall that when I was making decisions as a teenager, it was always in the back of my mind whether or not my parents would approve of what I was doing. Now, sometimes I knew that my parents definitely would NOT approve of my behavior and I went on with the shenanigans anyway but in hindsight, I think it was beyond important that: a) I knew that my parents cared about what I was doing and b) their approval mattered to me enough for it to at least cross my mind before making a choice. I hope that I can get into my kids’ heads like this when they are older.
I may not have frequented the honor roll and I don’t deserve a gold star for my behavior but I like to think that I turned out okay.