The View From The 26th Floor
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Student Life

The View From The 26th Floor

Insight into who I am as a writer

The View From The 26th Floor
Madison Frilot

I am currently sitting on the 26th floor common area. The 360 degree view of the city below me glistens from the fresh rain that just fell, the river alive and teeming with sailboats and kayaks. Picture perfect. I sit beside upperclassmen, their fierce typing inspiring me to stay busy and reminding me that this struggle that I am embarking on will be one of the most wondrous struggles of my entire life. Boston University. How did I get so lucky?

Well let me tell you, it probably wasn’t just luck. I know I didn’t get here just because I wished upon a star. I was pushed by my upbringing and how I grew increasingly different from my parents. Successful and filled with endless wisdom, my parents provided me with everything I needed to grow up healthily both mentally and physically, which I will respect for the entirety of my life. However, there has always been this fire within me that has made me desire more than they ever had.

Essentially it all boils down to one main idea: I got to this stunning 26th floor because I wanted nothing more than to escape. Don’t get me wrong, my family loves me and I had a great childhood, but it wasn’t always easy. I grew up around quite a bit of anger and resentment within my family, some drug and alcohol abuse sprinkled on top. None of it had to do with me directly, but when you witness people you love disrespecting each other, you can’t help but feel involved.

My parents split when I was very young, so I was constantly passed between the two of them, living out of suitcases and bags for 15 years of my life. In my early teens my mom has a massive exacerbation that left her with excruciating pain that we discovered was brought on by a severe case of Multiple Sclerosis. Her diagnosis ricocheted off of her and hit me right between the eyes, shattering me as if it were actually me dealing with the consequences of the disease. By no means have I experienced even a minute fraction of what she is going through, but in many ways I did have to deal with numerous of the effects of such a crippling disease. Dancing became an artistic outlet that helped me avoid the pain that leaked from her and ran into me. I started writing to cope with the pain of hers that I couldn’t dodge. So when I was getting old enough to start making my own life decisions and as her pain became too difficult for me to distinguish myself from, a type of rapid-fire that was growing impossible to avoid feeling, I knew I had to take the opportunity to escape. I wanted to do it in the best possible way I knew how: by attending a great school that would hopefully give me a lot of financial aid, and just so happen to be really really far away from home. It became my goal to get out. And I did.

I made some tough sacrifices for myself along the way. I realized that it was too difficult to pursue my own complicated desires while my the expectations my family members had for themselves were so basic. Choosing to put space between someone in need so that you can focus on yourself is probably one of the most difficult things to do. How dare I aspire to pursue a degree in extended education while someone so close to me was just fighting for each day? However selfish, hostile, and somewhat evil it may seem, sometimes you just have to do it because later on, when you’re sitting on your own version of this 26th floor, you’ll be glad you did. I am certain now that my family is proud of me and that if I would have stayed where I was, I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now. Sometimes you just have to push yourself and you can’t rely on others to do it for you.

Your parents may be supportive, but your aspirations may extended beyond their capacity.

I must admit, having said all this, I am still in the process of convincing myself that I am rightfully here, that all of this is in fact true and it wasn’t a computer glitch or system error that got me to this 26th floor. I’ve uprooted my life, left both good and bad on the West Coast, and decided to call Boston my new home.

A note from the author:

Designed as an autobiographical piece, I wanted to give my readers some insight as to where I come from. Nonetheless, I also wanted this article to reach out to anyone dealing with a similar situation. Whether you are starting college, dealing with the illness of loved one, or anywhere in-between and would like to reach out, I would be more than happy to offer any kind of advice I can. Feel free to reach me through email or social media!

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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