Maybe, just maybe

I've been in Italy for just over a month now, living with a family and enjoying the quiet peace Tuscany brings to my soul. This quiet (when their 130 lb Great Dane isn't pouncing on me) encourages a lot of reading, reflection, some blank moments, and many pensive ones. The other day I had a bit of an awakening. I found myself reminiscing of High School; the experiences I had, the people I was friends with and those I was not, the people who judged me and those I judged. 

In these awkward pubescent four years of my life, I felt belittled and unrecognized for my qualities.  My boyfriend of the time would often comfort me with these words, "They just don't understand you". This was just one of the many things that justified my decision to live in misery. 

Even till this day my "no one understands me" attitude sticks with me like a leach on warm flesh. It has got to go! 

Maybe, just maybe, my High school experience sucked because I allowed it to. Maybe, just maybe, there was constant drama and tension in my home because I created it. 

Maybe, just maybe, I do not believe anyone understands me because I have not taken the time to understand them.