This is one of the spur-of-the-moment pieces I made that didn't see print yet. Wrote it two years ago, when I was 20.

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RESPECT, THE HARD WAY


“Just graduate on time and I’ll leave you alone.”

That’s what my mother told me a few years back out of exasperation for my rebellious behavior. Being the teenager I was, it was not a surprise why I adored getting myself in trouble and hurting my parents pockets and hearts at the same time. I was invincible. I partied each day and went out with a diverse group of people. Those kinds whom the average well-meaning household wouldn’t let into their pretty little homes.

The only thing my parents said which threatened me so much to acquiescence was when they said that they’d be dragging me back to that provincial hellhole we called our hometown. That shut me up.

I couldn’t possibly go back home now that my life here in the city was giving me all I ever wanted and more. I never thought I had this wild side. I was proud of who I was then and the things I did. Let anybody try to challenge that and I’d swear nobody would dare attempt to go through the same things I did.

I wanted to scream with delight. I was, after all, independent. Seventeen years old and living all alone. What more could a kid ask for? I was too caught up in my own destructive pleasure I failed to see who were getting trampled on by my actions.

Now I’m 20. In a month I’m about to enjoy that independence my mother promised to grant me. Whenever I look back at those times I drowned myself with the belief that I had complete control of my life, I laugh. A few months after savoring the so-called teen independence, it came crashing back at me. Threefold. It hurt.

The pain was excruciating. The humiliation, enough to send me running back to my parents for mercy, for help. I constantly reminded myself that I could go through my problems alone. I couldn’t. I needed friends. I needed my family. Suddenly, I thought about my mother’s words. I did not want to be left alone anymore.

My definition of independence was a distorted one. It led to my downfall. I’m glad I swallowed my arrogance and asked for aid. I would have been nothing by now.

Most people my age don’t want to hear sermons about handling independence. Youth, with all its passion, has not been gifted with understanding and humility. The one thing that hits me most is the fact that I had to learn the hard way.

I was a stubborn child. It was probably what I deserved. At present, I’m not sure If I already know how to deal with life. But what I’ve done and who I’ve pained are enough for me to slowly work my way back up again. I see homeless people and think, it wasn’t their choice to live a life like mice, but they endure it the best way they can.

That’s where I differ from them. I have a choice. A lot of choices. It was just unfortunate that I made the wrong ones at an early age. I cannot say I regret having been the wild kid I was. It was the quicksand situation I needed to wake myself up.

Independence doesn’t mean having the liberty to do anything, anytime, without retribution or without getting reprimanded. It means having the balls to admit that the world does not revolve around you, and having the humility and courage to acknowledge that you do need other people and you can’t go through life alone no matter how strong you think you are.

Youth has the power to intoxicate you with lies. Pride cannot feed you. What it can do, however, is numb the pain for a while but that’s all there is to it. And you know you can’t live on painkillers your whole life. At some future time, you’d have to own up to your mistakes.

Independence means facing reality with your head high but with feet on the ground. It doesn’t and shouldn’t take a major downfall for one to realize it. I learned through physical pain and tears, not only mine.

I see now that there were other options. There were other roads that would have been the better ones to take. For most of us, courage is the road not taken. We try to hide behind the façade of invincibility. Like I said, youth makes one drunk. It’s not necessarily a complete submission to an outer societal force. We don’t have to conform with dogma. But there are rules that need to be followed. It doesn’t diminish one’s individuality to acknowledge the presence of these rules.

For free spirits like myself, they may seem like the chains that bind us down. What they really are, in reality, are the ties that hold us together. To make sure that in pursuing ourselves and who we are in this world, we don’t fall apart. We don’t self-destruct.

Responsibility is the key to learning independence. It is not something we naturally are born with. Independence is earned. It depends on how you try to earn it that makes it more refreshing when you’re finally awarded with it. For me, it was the anguish I contributed to the world that made me appreciate and take care of myself more prudently and gently.

I was not proud of the destruction I caused. I never will be. But I have learned not to abuse the little liberty I have over myself. That’s what made it fruitful.