Most of my friends already know that my health has given me problems since birth. I was born a month early. My lungs were underdeveloped, I had a cleft pallet and the doctors thought I would have mental defects. I spent the first year of my life on oxygen. I had several surgeries to repair my cleft pallet throughout my childhood. Still I fought hard and thrived. Even with my health I remember being happy most of the time. I had a thirst for knowledge and desperate desire to be the best. That perfectionist nature did come at a cost. I was prone to panic attacks and would beat myself up over little mistakes. My parents never said they were disappointed in me, but I was disappointed in myself. I held myself to a high standard. I often still do. I hadn’t learned how to fail or even make mistakes that could drop my grade below an A. Luckily my wonderful 5th grade teacher set me straight. I got my very first B on a report card that year. I was absolutely heart broken and wept. But I learned that perfection isn’t helpful without failure. You don’t learn if you are always right. I had the most amazing friends as a kid. I am so glad to be able to keep in touch with several of them. I am so proud of what everyone has done. That me was optimistic. The me from my childhood didn’t believe people could hurt one another intentionally, much less laugh about it. I didn’t understand cruelty. I didn’t understand hate. I didn’t understand bigotry. That me loved bright colors and even in my sad moments I had no true sorrow. That me loved herself. She not only believed in herself but knew without a doubt that she was beautiful, brilliant, and worth something. Honestly I miss that me. I miss her sense of wonder and joy. Her ability to trust easily. Her lack of cynicism. Nothing scared her. In all the pictures I have of those years I am always smiling. Even in pain I was tough. Heck I went to class after having 7 teeth pulled in 1 session. In fact I demanded to go back. Of all my friends there were 2 I trusted more than any other. I admittedly had crushes on both throughout our time being close. That said the crushes faded fast and the first of them was far more like a brother. But life moves on and somethings wither away. My first heartache came when 1 of those guys changed schools halfway through 5th grade. It stung, I felt abandoned. But I pulled a stiff upper lip and kept going. I finished that year top of my class. I was so proud of myself. I still have the medals and trophies somewhere. They were the only trophies I ever got and they were all academic. Life changed after that, for better or worse that is unclear to me. Perhaps as we continue on the answer will become apparent. Of course maybe there isn’t a concrete answer which is fine too.