On Being an Individual

I was twelve years old, that highly volatile age when middle school girls are mean, boys are awkward, and every pimple seems to be the end of the world. In all honesty, I did not experience much of an awkward phase. My sisters claim I just never grew out of it, which is entirely possible. There was this one time, though...

I had a friend spend the night. She was a friend I thought was a little cooler than I, and some small part felt honored that she was spending time with me. After staying up late, we were both a bit sluggish in the morning. I slouched at the kitchen table as I ate the waffles Mom had made us. But I never slouched, and Mom noticed.

She pulled me aside later that day and voiced her concern. "Anna, I felt like you changed your behavior because of her. I do not want you to ever change who you are because of other people." Of course, I denied any such thing, but to this day, those words stick.

My oldest sister got married a couple months ago, and I was able to spend a week with my family, the people who bring me the most joy. As we sat at the kitchen table, entertained by my nieces and nephews, laughing at one another's stories and chatting about life, my mom was buzzing around as she did when we were younger.

Mom stayed at home for thirty-six years. She had to discipline, encourage and love five very unique children, and she was our champion. She still remembers that one time my fourth grade teacher was mean. She was at every tennis match with a cooler, a bag of gummies and an extra Gatorade. She was the one I called the morning I quit my first job out of college to wait tables, encouraging me to take a step of faith.

She also gracefully reminds me where my priorities should lie, when I should adjust my expectations, when I should act, and when I should trust.

My parents raised five fiercely independent individuals with five starkly different personalities. We have walked very different paths, and they have been the greatest support for each of us. They have never tried to mold us, but instead have been there as we work, and sometimes struggle, to create our own mold, loving us throughout the process.

I do not think parenting gets easier as children get older. It may even get more intense. As we have all become adults, our parents continue to lead our family by example, demonstrating what it means to live a life of faith and pushing us to be stronger. Hundreds of miles away, they remain my greatest support.

It is hard to be an individual. To be yourself when others mock or question you. To speak when you would rather be silent. To remain true to your convictions, and to make those bold decisions that make you a leader and not a follower. When I look around the kitchen table, there is one character trait the Navatsyk children share: we know who we are, and we are not ashamed. I thank my parents for instilling that in us.

Photo Cred