I was 13, taking in a typical sunny Sunday afternoon from the backseat of my mom’s Toyota. I forget where we were headed.
I must have made some comment, because I remember my mom turning to me and saying with a grin, “Oh, you’re such a typical [insert zodiac sign]!”
I had no idea what that meant, so I asked.
She explained it was why I was the way I was, listing several of my common cares and points of focus to build her case. Continue reading
My identity crisis began at 14. I’ll try to describe it exactly as I would have at the time.
Before 14, there had been a few years of wonderful progress and growth. I’d moved to a new place with my family, made some really good friends, and fully immersed myself in martial arts.
During those good years, every possibility for the future had seemed to naturally weave itself in amongst this big, overarching plan for where I’d thought my life was going.
Then I turned 14. Continue reading