on my way home from h-town this past weekend, i had a lot of time to think. taking the indirect route (i.e. not 290 the whole way), made for a scenic view and more reflection. seeing these rural roads, i was reminded of one of the worst days of my life. i don't really remember how old i was, but we lived in Ohio, so i must have been 11/12. being a preteen, i hated a lot of other kids cuz i was the new kid and all hormonal boys are mean, plus i was hormonal as well. it was torture. specifically the churchies at the local baptist church we went to. they were worse than the kids at school, plus i just didn't like being forced to go. little background info: before this day, the family had been planning a trip to Cedar Point (badass amusement park in northwest OH) the next weekend. i was totally stoked. highlight of the year. so there was some sort of church gathering going on that we were attending. i don't remember all of it, but i'm sure i was being a loner and not socializing because i a) didn't like the others and b) they were playing baseball. i don't play sports. my parents noticed my lonerness and forced me to play. that was the worst thing they could have done. i really didn't want to. i was nearly in tears. i don't like playing sports and hated the players. adults may have been playing, but i don't recall. i go to bat. livid and teary eyed. first thing the kids say is: "move in. move in." to taunt me, implying i won't hit it very far. aren't sports great? by this point, i had decided to do my best to get out so i could leave the game asap. i didn't want to get walked and have to run the bases, so i was gonna swing at every pitch and either strike out, foul out, or hit a fly ball and be out. first pitch. i swing. to my surprise(and everyone else's), i hit a ground ball between first and second, it bounces into the outfield. i hit a single. damn. this wasn't part of the plan! to remedy having to be on base, i drop the bat and just don't run. outfielder to first baseman and i'm out. i could've made it if i wanted to, but i didn't want to play in the first place so it was a good thing. i walk off the field. i thought i had beat the system. little did i know... my parents were not happy. we get in the mini van and leave. at home, i find out that because i was being a brat/anti-social and throwing a fit about being FORCED to socialize/play sports, we were no long going to Cedar Point as punishment! what!?! this was a gross injustice! i was forced to do something i didn't want to and because i made it known, i was punished for it? the same people who forced me! i decide to run away because it was such an injustice. i didn't have to take this! i got on my bike and rode a good 10 miles on some rural back roads before i turn back because my hormones balanced out and i realize running away is stupid. i get back home and get in trouble. again. this time for running away and being dramatic, etc. still no Cedar Point. i tell this story to vent on being tortured as a preteen and also to reflect. which i am prone to doing. i just hope that i am a little more understanding with my kids. let them be themselves and not try to force them into torturous, potentially scarring situations. break the cycle, if you will. | 
