Werewolves Are Real, Don't Try To Change My Mind On This

Werewolves Are Real, Don't Try To Change My Mind On This

I swear I'm not insane, I just think werewolves are real.


Werewolves have always been written off as a mythical beast in folklore and movies, but what if deep in the woods they do exist? The official term is lycanthropy, which is the transformation of a person to a wolf or other animals. Origins of lycanthropy in tales begin in Greek mythology, Nordic folklore and of course, "Twilight."

The first time I heard about werewolves was when I was eight years old and had just heard of "Twilight." I think we all know about Jacob, the hot werewolf who always has his shirt off. My focus wasn't on his abs, but more on the deeper meaning of his animal-shifting abilities.


As I thought about it more, I picked up my own theory of werewolves and have stood behind it for many years now. The beginning of werewolves started in approximately the sixteenth century in Europe. The first werewolf was created on a full moon when a man and a woman were bitten by a wolf in the dark forest. On the next full moon, they shifted into a wolf for one night but kept it a secret from their village. The couple later had children that all got the wolf gene and were able to shift like their parents. Throughout generations, werewolves have evolved and gained more abilities like super strength, heightened senses and shifting at any time. With these passing generations, werewolves have grown and spread across the world.

As werewolves spread, they create groups called packs that stick together and act as a community. Packs stay in secluded territories and keep away from the public eye. From past events, like the witch hunts, these packs have been very careful not to reveal their true selves. It's been a very important law that all werewolves should protect their identity and stay away from normal humans.

The leader of a pack is called the Alpha. Alpha is a ranking passed down through blood and can't be changed. The second rank is Beta, third is Gamma and the rest are normal pack members. The alpha's partner is Luna. The bottom of the rank is Omega, and they are seen as the weakest. Packs also have warriors to protect their borders and hunters to gather food. All of these different positions are essential to keeping a good pack running.

Another part of the werewolf world that I find intriguing is mates. A mate is a werewolf's partner picked from a higher being that is made perfectly for them. Think of it as soulmates. This person is someone you can't live without or choose. They have a special bond that cannot be broken or else they both die.

Mates can be human, so maybe one of you lucky readers will find your own Jacob Black to have a werewolf baby with.

Werewolves are not seen as real creatures but truthfully, they have just been in hiding from us humans. If you can look past the image that society has created about werewolves, then you can see the possibility that these people exist. Maybe someday in the future, we can all learn to accept one another and live in harmony.

Who knows, there might be a werewolf reading this right now.

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The Coach That Killed My Passion

An open letter to the coach that made me hate a sport I once loved.

I fell in love with the game in second grade.

I lived for every practice and every game. I lived for the countless hours in the gym or my driveway perfecting every shot, every pass, and every move I could think of. Every night after dinner, I would go shoot and would not allow myself to go inside until I hit a hundred shots. I had a desire to play, to get better and to be the best basketball player I could possibly be.

I had many coaches between church leagues, rec leagues, personal coaches, basketball camps, middle school, and high school. Most of the coaches I had the opportunity to play for had a passion for the game like I did. They inspired me to never stop working. They would tell me I had a natural ability. I took pride in knowing that I worked hard and I took pride in the compliments that I got from my coaches and other parents. I always looked forward to the drills and, believe it or not, I even looked forward to the running. These coaches had a desire to teach, and I had a desire to learn through every good and bad thing that happened during many seasons. Thank you to the coaches that coached and supported me through the years.

SEE ALSO: My Regrets From My Time As A College Softball Player

Along with the good coaches, are a few bad coaches. These are the coaches that focused on favorites instead of the good of the entire team. I had coaches that no matter how hard I worked, it would never be good enough for them. I had coaches that would take insults too far on the court and in the classroom.

I had coaches that killed my passion and love for the game of basketball.

When a passion dies, it is quite possibly the most heartbreaking thing ever. A desire you once had to play every second of the day is gone, it turns into dreading every practice and game. It turns into leaving every game with earphones in so other parents don't talk to you about it. It meant dreading school the next day due to everyone talking about the previous game. My passion was destroyed when a coach looked at me in the eyes and said, "You could go to any other school and start varsity, but you just can't play for me."

SEE ALSO: Should College Athletes Be Limited To One Sport?

Looking back now at the amount of tears shed after practices and games, I just want to say to this coach:

Making me feel bad about myself doesn't make me want to play and work hard for you, whether in the classroom or on the court. Telling me that, "Hard work always pays off," and not keeping that word doesn't make me want to work hard either. I spent every minute of the day focusing on making sure you didn't see the pain that I felt, and all of my energy was put towards that fake smile when I said I was OK with how you treated me. There are not words for the feeling I got when parents of teammates asked why I didn't play more or why I got pulled after one mistake, I simply didn't have an answer. The way you made me feel about myself and my ability to play ball made me hate myself, not only did you make me doubt my ability to play, but you also turned my teammates against me to where they didn't trust my abilities. I would not wish the pain you caused me on my greatest enemy. I pray that one day, eventually, when all of your players quit coming back that you realize that it isn't all about winning records. It's about the players.

You can have winning records without a good coach if you have a good team, but you won't have a team if you can't treat players with the respect they deserve.

SEE ALSO: To The Little Girl Picking Up A Basketball For The First Time

Cover Image Credit: Equality Charter School

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A Poem About Hypocrisy, Mistakes, And Moving Forward

A poem of opposites and confusion in navigating the world.


Right and wrong

and wrong and right and trying

and changing

trying to heal, not fight

I say one thing and do another

while knowing I should have not done one

and result in the other

Changing and trying

and trying is hard

to stick to your values

your ethics

your consciousness barred

stagnant and evolving

and trying and true

so much to say and so much to do

there is peace in this space

between and within

you know what's right in your heart

and feel it from within

your spirit doesn't lie

and it can set you free

but how can I get there

and bring it out from within me?

This poem is all about the reclamation of my mistakes and my ownership of all of it. No one is perfect. No one completely knows right from wrong, to stay or go, to talk or stay silent. They mess up, learn from it, and take the world with fresh eyes, and open heart, and is more empathetic and understanding to themselves.

I do a lot of preaching without practicing at times, and although it's difficult, I try my best to do everything I have value for, stand for, believe in, while giving myself room to grow more. Whether it's taking my own advice or others, taking a pill that's hard to swallow, or truly cutting things out of my life that aren't good for me, it's so important to notice inconsistencies within yourself and change them.

I feel like I never come across as self-conscious or insecure of myself, but when it comes to many things I am hazardous and cautious- when I seem to be telling myself I am confident about everything when deep down I do have my doubts. But this is learning. This is loving.

However you interpret this poem, I hope it helps you treat yourself kinder, and helps you to grow and reevaluate all aspects of yourself- good and bad.

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