Senior year.
As my parents took pictures of my brother he stood there smiling, his neck suffocated with honor cords and medals.
"Are you sure you can walk with that all around your neck?" I scoffed.
Today was his graduation; did I mention he was valedictorian? All my life, I was compared to my brother. Your brother was the best baby in the world, you were a cry baby. You need to be smart like your brother. You need to work harder in school just like your brother. Academically my brother was way better than me.
As I grew up, I felt like I had to fit the mold of my brother. If I didn't achieve things like he did, I believed that I wouldn't get the same praise from my parents. For everything that I've accomplished, he's been there and done that.
I never went to my dad's games since my brother didn't go. One day I decided I wanted to go to see what all the hype was about, and never have I thought I would be so intrigued about a ball going through a hoop. At that point, I knew I was passionate about sports. I wanted to play so bad.
"Dad, would it be okay if I went to the gym with you?" I asked as he was packing his gym bag.
My dad looked up surprisingly, "For what?"
"I want to play basketball with you."
My relationship with my parents blossomed. My parents were my biggest supporters. They always provided me with everything I needed. My dad and I always pushed each other to be better in basketball. My mom loved watching me play. Sports created a different relationship with my parents. My older brother wasn't the athletic type. My parents always understood that I was a different child but didn't know how to praise me until I played sports. They were proud for all the successes I achieved in sports.
Sports was an outlet for me to express myself. I loved the competitiveness and aggression of sports. I began playing different sports each season: volleyball, basketball and Ultimate Frisbee. With sports in my everyday activities I had to learn how to maintain good grades while exceeding on the court or field. Sports had taught me to be a team-player, how to be a leader and push myself beyond my abilities. With the effort and time I sacrificed, out came good outcomes. I won championships in frisbee and basketball, I was named one of the top players in Frisbee and MVP of my basketball team.
This coming year I'll be where my brother was: cap, gown and diploma. I may not have as many cords or medals as he did, but that shouldn't define who I am. I grew up thinking I had to measure up to my brother, but as I got older I learned I could have my own successes and be myself. I decided I wanted to pursue physical therapy. Being injured, my physical therapist always knew what was wrong with me and knew how to fix it. I always knew I wanted to help people someway, being an athlete it had opened my views even more.
I am thankful of my brother who pushed me in my academics. He has always helped me throughout school and kept me in track. Everyone has different strengths and shouldn't be compared to others. There is no certain mold of a perfect person; each individual is different, but that's how they are unique.
As my parents took pictures of my brother he stood there smiling, his neck suffocated with honor cords and medals.
"Are you sure you can walk with that all around your neck?" I scoffed.
Today was his graduation; did I mention he was valedictorian? All my life, I was compared to my brother. Your brother was the best baby in the world, you were a cry baby. You need to be smart like your brother. You need to work harder in school just like your brother. Academically my brother was way better than me.
As I grew up, I felt like I had to fit the mold of my brother. If I didn't achieve things like he did, I believed that I wouldn't get the same praise from my parents. For everything that I've accomplished, he's been there and done that.
I never went to my dad's games since my brother didn't go. One day I decided I wanted to go to see what all the hype was about, and never have I thought I would be so intrigued about a ball going through a hoop. At that point, I knew I was passionate about sports. I wanted to play so bad.
"Dad, would it be okay if I went to the gym with you?" I asked as he was packing his gym bag.
My dad looked up surprisingly, "For what?"
"I want to play basketball with you."
My relationship with my parents blossomed. My parents were my biggest supporters. They always provided me with everything I needed. My dad and I always pushed each other to be better in basketball. My mom loved watching me play. Sports created a different relationship with my parents. My older brother wasn't the athletic type. My parents always understood that I was a different child but didn't know how to praise me until I played sports. They were proud for all the successes I achieved in sports.
Sports was an outlet for me to express myself. I loved the competitiveness and aggression of sports. I began playing different sports each season: volleyball, basketball and Ultimate Frisbee. With sports in my everyday activities I had to learn how to maintain good grades while exceeding on the court or field. Sports had taught me to be a team-player, how to be a leader and push myself beyond my abilities. With the effort and time I sacrificed, out came good outcomes. I won championships in frisbee and basketball, I was named one of the top players in Frisbee and MVP of my basketball team.
This coming year I'll be where my brother was: cap, gown and diploma. I may not have as many cords or medals as he did, but that shouldn't define who I am. I grew up thinking I had to measure up to my brother, but as I got older I learned I could have my own successes and be myself. I decided I wanted to pursue physical therapy. Being injured, my physical therapist always knew what was wrong with me and knew how to fix it. I always knew I wanted to help people someway, being an athlete it had opened my views even more.
I am thankful of my brother who pushed me in my academics. He has always helped me throughout school and kept me in track. Everyone has different strengths and shouldn't be compared to others. There is no certain mold of a perfect person; each individual is different, but that's how they are unique.
