Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Confessions.
Missing the Mark: Adventures in Leaving Homeschooling
Lockers slamming, a sea of backpacks and unfamiliar faces rushing through packed halls, and the overwhelming anxiety of not knowing where D wing was located...if ever there was a fish out of water, it's a homeschooler jumping headfirst into the shark-infested waters of middle school.
By WordSmithtress5 years ago in Confessions
Ignorant Words
As a young child I had a terrible speech impediment. I went to a speech therapist three times a week. I was so self-conscious when the lady would stick her head in my elementary classroom and pull me from the normal lessons to go work on my ability to talk. ‘How could I not speak.’ I would often wonder. ‘Babies learn how to talk without a therapist having them do odd mouth exercises in front of a mirror.’ I loved words and reading, the vocabulary inside my head was large, but getting it to exist in an audible form was nearly impossible.
By Miah Crosby5 years ago in Confessions
Razor Burn
It’s 1996 and I’m about to start my last year of elementary school, at a new school, in a town to which I just moved. Some background: my mother had just separated from my dad after he had been carrying on with a woman named Colleen at local bars in town. Since my mom was cute, and still young, she didn’t have to stay single for very long; a family friend had set her up with a widower she was close with named Eddie. He ultimately became my step-father, but was first introduced to me as a lonely sea captain, who thought my mom was attractive, and would drink Diet Pepsi at our friend’s summer pool parties. They hit it off immediately, and he eventually invited us to move in with him and his teenage son Russell, just one town over. The ensuing 12 years were, in fact, the best years of my life, but they definitely didn’t start that way.
By J. E. Sullivan5 years ago in Confessions
I Am Not a Cheerleader Anymore
Seven years. That is how long I worked hard for five days a week and two hours each day. So many tiring, sweat-dripping afternoons. So many tears shed when I was just too exhausted to keep going, when I was too frustrated because I just couldn’t nail that specific tumbling skill, or when we lost a competition after countless months of late-night practices. So much blood when I endlessly got kicked in the nose while catching my flyer so she doesn’t hit the floor.
By Kaylee Meyer5 years ago in Confessions
A Multi-cultural social shock
Social shock It was my skin that caught them off-guard when the doors to the class opened to let me in. Or it was the expectation in their minds that a foreigner had come to their school, from another country, who spoke English fluently and had enrolled in the school halfway through the term, skipping most of year 9. I was just as surprised as they were. Meekly walking in after the principal, I raised my head to look at a class of 8 staring back at me with wide eyes, roving their eyes over the stiff uniform I wore awkwardly, down to the clean white running shoes that had not experienced Indonesia's tropical wear and tear yet. No, they knew immediately that I was a foreigner. However, I was a foreigner in a class full of locals at an international school. I was an Indian kid caught between multiple cultures and societies, struggling to fit in.
By Semanti Mukhopadhyay5 years ago in Confessions
Don't Miss Your Shot
Wanna hear a circus tale? Alrighty, here it is: “I was a simple teenager. A little bit off the rails and rebellious? Well yes. But in most respects, I wasn’t too mainstream or into binge drinking. I was, however, keen to order my first drink. As my 18th birthday approached I didn’t bother to organize a party as I already had all that I wanted. The perfect gifts from friends and family: a mini-fridge and a Nutri Bullet blender. I like food ok? Life was good. It was simple. I was content. The morning of my 18th was splendid. Brunch with the family? Check that off. Shopping for some nice clothes? Yes, sir, please. Keen for a simple meal, some free San Churros, and then a movie at home? I’m ready for that. Although some small part of me figured, why not go out to a pub with people? I do love people, and I’d get to order that first drink.
By Anna Harrison5 years ago in Confessions
My Social Shock Confession
Yes! It happens. Sometimes students will feel like a misfit or an outsider in High School. In fact, it was in Junior High when those feelings of being an outsider and misfit hit me. At our school, the girls, who lived in town, were the popular girls, and the girls who lived in the rural area of our school district were considered the misfit, outsider, and unpopular ones
By Babs Iverson5 years ago in Confessions
Bless your heart.
I'll never forget meeting my ex boyfriend's family in Cington Georgia. It was 1978 and I was twenty three years old. I had never been to Georgia and my only association was peaches. I was excited to taste one fresh from a farm. The land was rolling hills, often thick with kudsu. It felt wet and dense. We were deep in the country and the history and energy of it was quite old. Very Southern Baptist.
By Susan Kulkowitz5 years ago in Confessions
A time I didn’t fit in
Let’s face it. Being a teenager isn’t easy. You’re going through changes, attempting to find your place, and trying to fit in. High school was not my scene. Is it really anybody’s scene, though? The first thing you’re taught in orientation is to make friends. So you go off and join a club, or a sports team. I was already a competitive cheerleader with a program outside of school, so I couldn’t join anything super time consuming. What’s more of an individual based sport? Oh! Cross Country should be perfect for me! Okay: Join a Sports team? Check. What’s next? The next thing they teach you in orientation is to never fall behind on your class work, but to also take as many college courses as you can before actually going off to college. Okay: Load up on extra courses? Check. So I’ve joined a high school sport’s team on top of an already competitive cheerleading program, and I’ve loaded up on class work. Should be fairly easy. Boy was I wrong.
By Kayaleah Bradley5 years ago in Confessions
Origami and the Origin of Awkwardness
In the beginning of my middle school years, I had an obsession with origami. Oh no no no, this was no ordinary obsession. I couldn’t simply put an end to it and move on with my life. This obsession took root deep in my mind, driving me to constantly fold and create every chance I had. If there was any paper in my house, it would not be there for long. My hands would appear to friends and peers to writhe and fumble with no clear rhyme or reason, but a trained eye could see that I was making art; a cootie catcher to predict the future, star boxes to hold precious belongings, foxes and birds to decorate even the plainest of rooms. All the knowledge I had came from a book of ancient techniques; The Usborne Book of Origami and other Paper Projects. With its wisdom and guidance, I was truly a prodigy in the art of origami.
By Trey Lindquist5 years ago in Confessions
