September 28, 2006
Before coming to college my life was pretty much perfect. I had no reason to complain. My parents trusted me and I could tell them everything. My extended family got together every Sunday and for everyone’s birthdays. I did well in school, was president of several clubs and was crowned the homecoming queen. Outside of school I was crowned my counties fair queen, where I met my perfect boyfriend who just happened to be the fair king. Yes my life was pretty much perfect.
Then I got to college and things changed. I was in a new place and didn’t know anyone. I made new friends, but they just weren’t the same as my friends at home. I didn’t have my family to support me and take care of me when I wasn’t having a good day. My “perfect boyfriend” changed from an angel who had the same morals as I, to a totally different person, we broke up and my steady rock that had been there for me for a year was gone. To top it all the weather was cloudy and cold. I was depressed, unhappy and felt like the world was against me. I didn’t understand why I was going through all of this. My life had been perfect and it wasn’t supposed to change. But then I realized something. Something I had never thought of, I realized that I needed a dark, rainy and cloudy day when my white dress gets splashed by a puddle of mud from a car speeding by. I realized that you need a bad hair day when you just couldn’t get your mess of hair to curl for your good looking first date; a “can’t do anything day” when you acted like a clutz and just seemed to spill and knock over everything in your path; a depressing day in which the whole world was against you and you couldn’t seem to even force a smile; and even the day after a tough breakup when all you could do was think of the person that just broke your heart and sob. In college, I was experiencing a lot of bad days and without these horrible and seemingly traumatic days when I felt the world was against me, I could never truly experience a good day.
I believe bad days are essential. Without a bad day, would that chocolate ice cream cone in the middle of a hot July day be as good; that walk on a white sandy beach with your soul mate at sunset be as romantic? Would that backyard game of “touch” football or baseball with your family be as special or that “road trip” to Wal-Mart with all of your best friends to play baseball in the isles be as fun? Without bad days would that day of sitting around the house and doing nothing be as relaxing? Two weeks of bad days made me believe that I needed to value and treasure my bad days just as much as my good days, because it is only through bad days that I have come to truly appreciate the good ones.
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