For as long as I can remember, I have been a ball of stress. I know it to be true and it always has been. I live my life with my heart on my sleeve, never hiding who I am. Who I am is a very headstrong person, outgoing in every aspect of life. I've never been known to hold anything back.

As I grew up, I began to realize how few people did that. In fact, the definition of growing up seemed to be: learning to hold things back. Growing up is learning not to get excited about flavors of ice cream or a person dressed like your favorite Disney character. Growing up is laughing at the people who try something difficult and fail the first couple times.

Childhood was running around, unaware of the food on your face or the stains on your shirt. Childhood was the thought of fun and the easy distractions of the sun streaming through the trees or the sound of a bird chirping. Childhood was never sitting still and childhood was always wanting to do more. Childhood was climbing higher, pushing boundaries, and making those around you a little nervous for your safety. When does that stop?

For me, it didn't. I tried hard in school, even when it wasn't cool to raise your hand. I went out for the swim team without the years of experience other kids had. I introduced myself to people and tried new things and put myself out there. I learned quickly this was not how the world worked. I thought of myself as different, but I didn't really think it was a bad thing.

I just took it upon myself to get everyone to see the world from my perspective. I wanted everyone to embrace fun and leave worry behind. Who cares if we wear that out? It's not like we'll see anyone we know. Who cares if you sent an embarrassing text? People will forget about it in a week or two.

However, in my own world I didn't realize that my different perspectives were a bad thing. I began to realize my attitudes didn't mix with others, and as a result I found myself alone in my own world a lot. No one wanted to travel to a land so unfamiliar, when everyone had been so welcoming in the other world. I began to lower my hand until I stopped raising it all together. I thought it would be better not to stand out and avoid getting teased for something I didn't even realize was wrong. The people who cared the most began to notice, but it was too late.

Who I am today is a reflection of the people who raised me. This means my selfless parents and my tough brothers, but it also means every kid who picked on me because I was too loud or too dorky. I think about how every action affects the people around me before I do it. While this is a good thing, it can also eat me alive.

At 19 years old, I've become a mixture of so many things. I'm sharp witted and I put others before myself; that's from my mom. I use humor to lighten moods and I have a flair for music and movies -- thanks, Dad. I love sports and can hold my own in most situations, thanks to two younger brothers. My friends are all so different than me, but we all work well together. Life doesn't get easier, but I've found how to find the people that make it that way. I never realize how good I have it until I'm shushed by a stranger.

It's been years since my spirit has been crushed, but it's something that stuck with me through years of schooling. I'm no longer hesitant to go on rants about characters on television shows, or post an Instagram photo of me and my family, instead of friends. Some days I wish I could turn off my thoughts, all racing at the speed of light, one after the other. But I know that if I remove them and piece them together, I can easily balance myself out. I'll think of a joke and text it to my friend, or remind my mom to pick up my favorite cereal. I never stopped running since I was 5 years old, but I have learned to slow down and enjoy the scenery. And while I thought I would have to be running alone, I've found that some views are better shared, not kept to yourself.