Every September 11th I reflect back. Not really for the day and what happened, but more because it was a time in history that I can remember exactly where I was. I was 17, I was in love (only to have my heart broken shortly after) , I was unsure of where to go for college or what I wanted to do, I had just gotten two new siblings. My 17th year was the hardest year of my life. Until this year.
It is amazing to me that was seven years ago. That was the year I grew up. I will never forget going to bed that night, America on edge, for the first time realizing that the world was dangerous no matter where you are. I felt scared, I felt like a child. I felt happy that I lived at home with my family, in suburban Oregon, I wanted to feel sheltered again (I think a rare feeling for a 17 year old). I am not sure that I ever have felt sheltered since then.
I think I will always look back on these last few months, as a time that was similar to when I was seventeen. A time when I felt my life was in transition, a time when I felt unsure, scared and insecure. A time for great change and growth.
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