I see myself as another person evolving into who I will become. I feel like the old me is on the outside looking in, seeing a culture shift go through a person who has never tried to experience anything else but the life that was previously laid out for him. I was the clean-cut, 3.9 GPA and three-sport athlete in high school. I became everything my mother ever wanted out of me.

I put everything I had into the path that was already molded for me by two older brothers who both worked hard to become the respected dynasties of athletic and academic success at a local high school. My last name already carried weight in halls I had never stepped foot in before. So, I took it and ran. Then I let it become what defined my high school career with a few twists of my own.

So what happens when you hit the reality of college and everything that you held yourself to is no longer there? I found that I was no longer the jock that could get away with what I wanted but the misguided misfit that had yet to recognize the essence of being different. I turned to a few old outlets of stress relief like working out and childhood hobbies of being outdoors such as exploring trails of my own with my dog, fishing or riding horses.

I found peace in getting lost in things I was already familiar with; it was bittersweet to appreciate them in a different light. I soon fell for a girl that was the opposite of me: she was anti-sports, anti-religion and, most importantly, anti-me. She opened a door to a new world of wonder that allowed me to fall into, to discover who I was going to become. I soon found my way with words that I inherited from my father. I stopped looking for my new sword and felt at home with the pen.

So it became an outlet when I am lost. When I try to figure out who I am, especially when I had no one to turn to. I wrote poetry about what I thought was wrong with the world. I would spin every poem to where I would find a way to save the world that I watched fall apart. My poems evolved into thoughts of dealing with a new reality, letting my parents down and falling head over heals for girls I barely knew.

I did not share any of them until this summer when I connected with someone at a camp I worked at. I had written a couple of poems while I was there, and I felt that I could trust her with seeing another side of me, the side I fought so hard to hide. She appreciated it and gave me to confidence to share it with others and that it might actually be worth something. To her I am in debt for that. It’s funny now some of my most personal and hard-hitting writing has some type of connection to her.

Now I’m here writing for publication in an online magazine. How things have changed. I now find myself exploring as many cultures as possible. I live with another writer/movie buff, a musician and an artist that also does music. I have surrounded myself with people that have various ways of expressing themselves, and I am so grateful for that. I look to get a version of me out in the world that has never seen the light of day before about two months ago.

So here we go, a chance to change my world through writing. I hope my thoughts and theories can be an opportunity for lost souls to relate to.