Champion03 Mar, 2016 03:12 AM
I am a fighter, maybe not necessarily with the world, but with myself. Each hand represents the incessant need to fight whatever my opponent is chucking at me. Somehow, within the midst of this fight I realize that my opponent is me, but an unfamiliar version of myself. A “me” I have yet to solve, a “me”, whom I have yet to break down and conquer. I have fought myself many times, but somehow, unknowingly, I have managed to create a monster who has thrown nothing but these power jabs, each having the ability to break me down. Each punch represents a life situation or an academic deficit I find myself having to overcome. But how? When did I allow myself to create such an overpowering replica of myself? One that I had no idea was being created?
In life, everyone has the choice of either being themselves, or of transforming into the second personality they’ve created to escape their reality. Sometimes the harshness of life can cause you to fall into a kind of mental abyss that may seem too difficult to escape. For them, it is optional. For others, the transition into their alter ego is against their will, or in this case, against my will. Originally, I had the golden gloves; I was able to knock out any new form of obstacle within myself that I witnessed sprouting from its roots. These golden gloves not only represented strength within me, but strength in all aspects of my life. Outside of the ring I was also an academic champion. I was presented with honors and recognized for all of my academic successes. During these times I have encountered many life altering situations, some that I took head on, others that were too powerful to deal with so I set them aside. As time progressed, I found those set aside situations building up and transforming into what is now this massive alternate ego that is conquering this once powerful girl that I had known for so very long.
This alteration, unfortunately, struck me at a critical time in life. My junior year of high school, I went in with such enthusiasm, not knowing what was laid out for me in the upcoming days. I could no longer set aside the situations that had been directed towards me, I was at my breaking point. Not only had the glass that I had been filling with all these set aside predicaments had over flown, but somehow this overwhelming capacity shattered this glass and this new person ejected from its core. Of course, I tried to pick up all of the pieces from this glass that could no longer handle this influx. I picked up every single glass bare handedly and realized that these shards that had cut deep into skin, but somehow as I continued, I realized that these cuts began to heal; showing me that as you clean up your own mess you become stronger and your open wounds heal quicker. It had taken me a little while to clean up the full mess, but I managed to pick up every single splinter, those not even visible to the human eye. By the time I had finished, I realized it took me up until my twelfth grade year to have that floor with such a huge mess to be spotless. I realized that I was a true fighter and that these gloves that I owned had never fit me better. I had also come to the realization that all of the matches that I have now encountered were so much easier. I am no longer in a fight with myself, I am no longer struggling with who I am. Taking what life has thrown at me head on has left me with the golden gloves, once again.