The Alterations of Me and the Visuals that Kindled Them

Everyone has had a moment in their childhood that seemed to stop time and reveal their identity, like seeing Beyonce in concert for the first time or the final product of your first batch of cookies. The most notable images from my life so far are holding my brother for the first time, realizing I was stunted socially, and the exact moment the rift between my mom and my dad’s side of the family was created. During my childhood, the most prominent moments in my life impacted and shaped me by presenting me with a reason to become a role model, a different social life than the stereotypical one, and teaching me how to navigate emotionally stressful situations, supplying me with the Duplo Legos for constructing the foundations of my own identity, beliefs, goals, and social skills.

My first memory is begging my dad to lift me, so I could peer through the small rectangular rectangle to see the precious, new thing on the other side; my newborn brother Luke Taylor Schmit. On the twentieth of May 2008, I became a big sister. For the first couple of years, I was mainly just riding the buzz of having a baby in the house but when Luke turned three he started copying me. I paid it no mind until his first visit to the principal’s office, he was in kindergarten, then I understood my role; big sister. From then on I’ve been the “good kid”, the reliable one who was always there to support my siblings. You could say I even took on the role of “mom” at times, and the burdens I put on myself have led to extreme anxiety but, at least I can say with pride and almost complete certainty that I am a good big sister. He helped me out too though, especially in school.

During elementary school, children learn the basics of socialization and standing up for themselves… I was homeschooled. Despite my poor socialization skills, thanks to homeschooling I was friendlier than my other classmates because of the stereotypes I hadn’t been exposed to.

I wasn’t exposed to many kids my age which prevented me from having opportunities to make friends and advance my self-confidence. I only made my first real friend because of my brother; he played with my friend’s younger brother while my friend and I took a standardized test and introduced us afterward. Even if I was emotionally and socially stunted, I am grateful my mom chose to homeschool me. Being homeschooled meant I could learn at my own pace and have some minuscule input on the material I learned. My mom was a high school science teacher before she had me, so she knew how to teach and avoided the early confusion other parents have when starting homeschool. It was decided I would attend public school for the fifth grade. I was excited and nervous, scared I wouldn’t fit in. My first day in class was daunting but I worked up the courage to ask a girl I was talking to at recess “Will you be my friend”, she gave me a strange look but accepted. After school that day I excitedly told my mom about my new friend; however, when I got to the part about how I asked her, she cringed. I was too old to make friends that way. I continued going to school and I realized something, school had stereotypes. The kids in my class had grown up together and formed their groups, their own cliques. I had heard of the stereotypes of “Jock” or “Popular Girl”, but just thought it was an exaggerated play on school; not a real thing. Of course, the movies exaggerated it some but I didn’t think it was in any way close to the truth.

After I left California and came to Colorado, my family moved into my paternal grandparents’ house. As the oldest, I got my own room, though it was on the first floor so, I was separated from the rest of my family at bedtime. Life was peaceful until my Uncle Kenny was released from prison. My grandmother is a gracious person and an extreme enabler, she gives my uncle a safety net every time he makes a bad decision… and my mom hates it. One night I was preparing to go to bed but, when I entered my room, I found my uncle passed out drunk on my bed. I went to get my grandma, she told me to just wake him up. I was scared of my uncle, I had only known him for about a month and, as I said before, I was horrible at standing up for myself, so I slept in my parent’s room that night. A few days later, I climbed the stairs to the sight of my mom yelling and throwing a variety of small objects at my uncle. I didn’t understand what was going on but, I did know that I should keep my siblings out of the ostensibly dangerous situation. I went back downstairs and prevented my siblings from investigating. That memory is stuck in my mind to this day. Ever since then, I’ve been a bit more paranoid and wary of people. I believe that event was the start of me going down the long emotional road to where I am today, more stoic, flexible, and a bit of a pessimist. My confusion about why the event happened inspired my interest in psychology and my goal to become a therapist. So, in my opinion, this fight has influenced me the most out of all the other images in my life.

The images that steered me onto the path to becoming who I am, becoming a big sister, being homeschooled, and the start of my home troubles, molded me into Bethany Lynn Schmit. They became the foundation of me, my ideals, mindset, goals, and morals. The visuals ingrained in my memory helped me gain self-confidence, a sense of responsibility, and the skills to exist as myself, so for that, I am thankful.