The Things I Carry

My life is filled with emotional baggage. I carry tears, a broken heart, and lost pieces. I carry vivid memories alongside my pain, to relieve myself. I carry a stuffed polar bear beside me, to comfort and love me. My parents brought him to me when I was ten, and I named him Paulie after my favorite Beatle. The first time I met him, I ran my fingertips through his soft snowy fur. I looked into his deep black eyes and I immediately felt secure. I’ve carried that bear through every trip, every memory, every laugh, every smile, and every cry. Without him I’d be lost and alone; my bear keeps me sane. I’ve stained his flowy white fur with kisses and tears. As I breathe in his scent, I feel a sense of home, and I am brought back to beautiful memories that have touched my heart. I am brought back to the familiar feeling of happiness.

I carry tiny scars on my hands. They are small lines and blisters carved into my fingers and palms. They tell different stories from my rowing journey. I also carry emotional scars from disappointments and losses. But these scars are proof that I can achieve anything in this sport. That I am strong enough, tough enough, and good enough. They have shaped me into someone who never turns down a challenge. They show me that I can win.

I carry my friends and loved ones; they are people I will never let down. My biggest fear is losing them and disappointing them. I pour out my heart to them, and I will always take care of them. Their presence helps me feel less lonely and loved. I feel the urge to please them in every way possible, by saying “I’m sorry” when I’m not at fault, and by making them happy. The compassion that I receive from my friends helps me endure and overcome difficult times in life. I seek their comfort and advice, along with their happiness and joy. The lifelong memories we’ve shared have helped me become who I am. The moments we’ve shared together will impact me for the rest of my life.

I carry my cross necklace and my Greek Orthodox religion. I received this precious item from my dear aunt during a time of depression. This gleaming, bright blue cross proves to me that happiness is possible, and that in the end things will turn out okay. During one of the worst times in my life God came to me, and my cross was his symbolic way of protecting me. Every morning I wake up, look in the mirror, and smile as my delicate fingers clasp the sparkling jewel onto my chest. Without my cross, I feel bare, anxious, and insecure. This is a reminder of God, and how he will always be present in my life. The symbol of the cross has helped me place one foot in front of the other and keep on moving through life.

I carry my car keys; they are the symbol of independence and freedom. I hang them around my neck as a reminder of the trust and liberty that my loving parents have given me. My keys allow me to venture out and create new memories. They allow me to have time alone, and they provide an escape route. With these keys I have the power to go anywhere I want and make any decision I please. My keys shape me into my own person, away from parents and the influence of others. They give me the opportunity of being my true self.

I carry my diary; it’s a small book, with emotionally filled pages. This book holds my darkest feelings, and I carry it with me everywhere I go, to remind me of my past. My diary teaches me how to live life. The beautiful words inscribed on the pages take me back for a moment, but then help me to move forward in my life.

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