I don’t long for my high school years. I don’t look back and wish that I could relive my youth. I love being 30 and I look forward to getting older. Much of this has to do with the fact that I do not like who I was in high school and my first two years of college. I was not the real me. I was ashamed of so many things and to hide them, I hid myself. I lied. A lot. In fact, there was a point that I don’t think I was capable of telling the truth to anyone because I had locked it away so much. I caused a lot of pain for others and lost so many friends.

I did not like myself in HS. I did not like my family. There was so much anger towards them and others who seemed to have it better, that it blinded me to the good in my life. I was attracting the wrong people to my life. I was getting caught up in things that would have seriously hurt me. I was at a such a bad place that for a while, death looked like the best option.

And then I found me.

I started writing. I started trying to figure things out on paper because trying to do it in my head was not working. I had to hash it out with my mother, who despite her materialistic generosity, was emotionally void. She was emotionally and verbally abusive and my actions were the direct result of needing attention. I had sisters who, dealing with their own issues with my mother, made me feel inferior and worthless. There was anger.

I went to therapy for a while just to have some one to talk to about my experiences. He helped me put it into perspective and deal with the real issues and not the superficial stuff.

When my husband and I were dating, I found unconditional support in his family. They accepted me- the whole package. He accepted me. He listened. And when my family issues became too much to handle, his parents became my surrogate parents. They restored my faith in humanity, in myself, and in love.

When I look back on those HS years it becomes increasingly obvious to me that I am not the same person. In fact, I don’t recognize myself and if I rekindled those old friendships with others, they would not recognize me either. And that is fine.

I have changed for the better. Life is about progress; we strive to be better than we were before. The true measure of a person’s life lies in the lessons he/she has learned along the way. This is what I want my daughter to know and this is what I want my students to learn.

I learned that sometimes, despite the way we see ourselves, we are fine. We may not be perfect, but when we accept we are, perfection takes on a different meaning.

I learned that true friends will be honest with you and you with them. You will catch each other when you fall and more importantly, you will help them stand tall again.

I learned that trying to be someone else is not worth the energy. The wasted energy is better used being the best you that you can be- no matter what others say.

I learned that most people that you meet in the world are so wrapped up in their own lives, that your pain will take a backseat. You must help yourself because most of the time no one can focus on you more than you can.

And more importantly, I learned to admit my mistakes to myself first, and then to those affected by them. When we are honest with ourselves we are able to see things clearly and differently.

I am on a road to redemption. I am living my life as honestly as possible. I have purged myself of the negative energy that once dictated my thoughts. I am happier, and while I know that I have much work to do on myself, I have no intention of stopping.

So, are you on the road the redemption? How has getting older changed your life?