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Untitled — In between the lines -/

Amy Rose
6 min readMar 23, 2020


When did it all change? When does it all change? We go from innocence wrapped in silk blankets welcomed into a world of newness and held in arms we couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of. We grow up in a world where at the age of six taking the training wheels off your bike seems to be the biggest thing to conquer, and in that moment, fear seems to hold us captive but once we finally take flight, no longer needing daddy to hold on to us, or needing mommy to videotape all of our pivotal moments, we are filled with an abundance of pride, we hold our chest up high feeling accomplished. Hitting the age of six wasn’t just about conquering the good riddance of your training wheels but it was about experiencing that first moment of accomplishment and exhilaration that stays with us forever. After such a big accomplishment, we feel like we can conquer just about anything, like winning a game of cops and robbers or outsmarting someone with the most clever hiding spot in a neighborly game of hide n’ seek, where adrenaline would rush through us at such a high magnitude.

As we grew, we seemed to adopt the idea of how perfect the world is; oh how naive. We find fractions and moving decimal points in our elementary school math class to bore us and the boys to be quite more intriguing. Where liking a boy was about chasing him at recess or better yet letting him chase you, in between exchanged smiles and hitting them in a playful manner, we feel wanted. Wanted, wanted, wanted, isn’t that all we truly desire? There was nothing quite like coming home after a long day of the dullness that was school but once our feet finally reached our front porch door we were ready to throw our back packs down and anxiously run out to meet our friends in the cul-de-sac to figure out what adventure we would conquer for the day. Excited, all I could ever be, knowing that by night fall I’d come home exhausted after having such a full day. Full days, I don’t know if I remember such a feeling like I once did as a child.

Summertime, right before entering middle school seemed to be the scariest moments I ever experienced, feeling worried to have to open a locker and remember the combination, where school was going to be more challenging, and kids were going to be more mean, more rejecting, and more entitled. Yet somehow we continued to think that the world was beautiful, and we were untouchable. We have little hopes and dreams of loving someone, being married, and being in whatever career we seemed to be stuck on in that moment. We found ways to continue to convince ourselves that the world is still perfect, pure, and sadly, good. We don’t seem to see what’s lurking around the corner though, do we?

High school comes around and life is moving faster than ever. By this time we’ve outgrown some friends, gotten our braces off, and have to go get a whole new wardrobe because we all know that Freshmen get dogged on the most. In between the four years of high school we are shaped, challenged, and these memories will stay imprinted in us. Four years that flew by so fast, maybe even too fast but we couldn’t wait to get out of there, we couldn’t wait to grow up. Four years of what felt like intentional heartbreak, going to pep-rally’s on Friday’s, getting high on cold midnights, having tired eyes in between bells ringing through the school hallways, and school dances that seemed to end in sloppy drunkenness with the feeling of emptiness and wanting more from life lingering in the back of our minds. I think this is the first time we taste the bitterness that the world can force us to taste.

We overlook all the good with our moments of brokenness and pain. Forgetting that we weren’t the only ones going through growing pains and the reality of life surrounding us. Forgetting the only people who remained consistent and experienced our pain alongside us. Our parents, watching their baby’s grow from fitting into onesies and taking their first steps to having to shop at the bigger kids stores, like Abercrombie and Aeropostale. They see our every fear play out as they encourage us to fight against the fear, even if our fear is as simple or as small as getting the training wheels taken off our bikes. They don’t make us feel small or dismissed, they recognize our fear and are ready to defeat it right beside us. As we continue to grow, they teach us to fight for what is right and try again when we fail.

Our parents weren’t perfect but they were the closest things to actual superheroes that we’d ever come close to experiencing. They sat on the metal bleachers as we played in our first sporting event and cheered as loud as they could, because they knew we were listening, they knew we needed a little confidence boost. And when we wanted to give up, they reminded us to stay dedicated and try harder, giving up simply wasn’t an option. They were there when we had our first heartache and as devastating as it was they told us that we’d make it through and make it through we did. They watched us graduate our eighth grade year at our end of the year ceremony and shed a couple tears because this is where it hits them, that their baby is finally ready to fly, learn, and experience life for all its’ downfalls and all its’ victories. They raised us to be bold, strong, and full of adventure. They feel a bittersweetness rush through their hearts as they are proud yet still wanting to hold onto us for just a little longer.

They were our biggest supporters and our greatest protectors. They chose to love us when we lied and broke their trust, got caught doing drugs, and got tangled up in the wrong crowd of people. When we rebelled their hearts ached. They wanted more from us because of the potential they saw that we couldn’t. Truthfully, they deserved to be treated better. Just when we felt like we didn’t need them, we graduated high school, ready to be “adults,” eager to start college and finally move away, in the midst of all the change, we are rocked at our core because of the realization that being an adult isn’t what we thought and there is no place quite like home. And home was with them, in all the moments for all that they were, they were always and will always be home. Home, where we found our rest, peace, and an abundance of unconditional love; our parents, their love. When life doesn’t make sense and seems to be crashing over us like tidal waves caught in a hurricane, they will remind us that through this lifetime of ours, through all that they raised us to be, through all that they’ve watched us experience, both good and bad, that we will, yet again, rise above and make it through. This life isn’t perfect, this life isn’t easy, in fact it is quite the opposite. We are raised to believe that the world is so good, so perfect, but how could it be when we, as people, are the true opposite?

This world isn’t going to give us an easy ride, it will bring us to our knees in utter defeat, pain, or failure but it is our decision to either believe in the smallest speck of hope that the world is still good, still possible, and still wondrous and rise up and fight for our dreams, or give in to the reality that this life isn’t what we hoped it would be and continue to be disappointed.



Amy Rose

Writing has always acted as a creative outlet for me, it has been such a constant love of mine since the bright, young age of 6! Here is me and my words!