When we are young, we make mistakes. No matter how small or huge, all of them impact our lives. Realizing that they did make an impact on our lives is important, and coming to face them shows we have matured.
When I was in eighth grade, I had to wear a barf-like neon green shirt. I didn’t like it, but I was required to wear it; it was promoting a choir concert, and it was for a grade. Thus I wore a maroon hoodie to cover the abominable shirt.
However, I did end up taking off the hoodie. I was in a high school classroom, and there was a girl who was talking about her “awesome” shirt, but some of the boys she was talking to said they did not care for it.
I could not keep my mouth shut as I listened. I told her that her shirt did not fit her correctly, and therefore it was not becoming. The shirt was indeed a lovely one, but as I mentioned, it did not flatter her figure. For her that was no small feat because she could have looked amazing even in a brown sack. I told her that as well, and the others agreed.
When the conversation was over, I decided to take off my sweater because it was crazy-warm in the classroom. Bad idea. My peers were stunned into silence as they stared at my shirt for choir, and then they burst out laughing. I had forgotten I was wearing that menace of a shirt. They asked how I could criticize the other girl’s shirt when mine was a thousand times worse. At least her shirt would look good on someone else. Mine, on the other hand, would not. I tried to tell them I had to wear it for choir, but it did not get through to them and I was embarrassed.
Needless to say, I never, ever wore that shirt again. I don’t even recall what I did with it. I wonder, looking back at it, if I had worn a different shirt, would my peers still have laughed at me? I came to the conclusion that it was the shirt that was in the wrong, and if I had worn a different one, they at least would not have laughed so hard.
Later, I realized that I was hiding behind my choir shirt. I blamed the shirt for my embarrassing moment, and through that, I also blamed my choir director for even thinking up the shirts. I did not have to wear it. I could have refused to, and I should have accepted the bad grade.
Realizing the mistakes you made in your youth is what growing up is all about — understanding that what you did was not necessarily wrong but that it certainly was not a wise decision, either. As it was said in chapel all of last week: “He grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.” Don’t hide behind your bad choices. Accept them for what they are, and then move on. If you get stuck dwelling on bad choices, you can only have a negative attitude.
