A Warrior to the Uncomfortable

No one really talks about how it truly feels to not want to get up in the morning. Is it the lack of energy because of something one is dreading that day? Are they depressed and see no point in living out the day when all the days before run together? Or is the lack of wanting to get up simply because people are so comfortable and prefer a life of comfort to the rude awakening of the morning? For me, I pick the third. After uprooting my cozy life in the middle of nowhere to the strange nature of the city, my parents thought a little change would be exciting. Wrong. Change is uncomfortable and scary. The thought of having to make new friends, form a new schedule, and fit in is extremely uncomfortable. I do not like being uncomfortable; therefore, I do not like change.

 

My first day of seventh grade was very uncomfortable. I walked into a new class

filled with new people. There was a boy who sat in the back, Adam. His shirt was very

dirty, his hair was messy, and he smelled funny. Looking at him made me feel

uncomfortable. I figured that he, like me, hated the mornings. There was another girl,

Grace, who was a very pretty girl with golden hair and a pink dress. I figured she liked

the mornings. She was always smiling and talked to everyone by the time I walked to

my seat. She seemed wonderfully comfortable. The last person I remember is my

teacher, Mrs. Lansbury. I could see that she was tired, even though she walked in with a

happy smile and cheerful voice saying hello to us all. I could tell she was tired because

her eye was very black. I got those black spots under my eyes every time I stayed up

really late too. Mrs. Lansbury must have stayed up really, really late because her black spot went around her whole eye. Even though I was uncomfortable, the first day seemed ok, and I was not especially nervous about waking up the next day.

 

October finally arrived and Mrs. Lansbury assigned us all groups to complete a

science project. I was put into a group with Grace and Adam. Grace and I had become

great friends, so I was very happy to be paired with her. But Adam and I never really

talked. He didn’t really talk to anyone. Being his partner made me feel a little nervous

because it was change, and change is uncomfortable. When we had to pick a house to

work at that night, Adam offered his. At three thirty, Grace, Adam, and I walked to

Adam’s house. It was a very small house with white paint peeling off the sides, a lot of

junk in the front yard, and a crooked door. My house was not that big, but it seemed like

a mansion in comparison. After going inside, there was a man passed out on the couch,

a lady looking very tired in the kitchen, and three small kids in the bedroom. Adam told

Grace and I to start setting up the project while he made dinner. I asked why he was

making dinner…that was a mom and dad job. He said that he helps his parents with the

cooking and cleaning while they look for a job. My parents have always had a job, so

why didn’t his parents have one? That should be an amazingly comfortable life because

my dad always complains about his. But Adam said that his parents lost their jobs when

a company shut down. He said that the reason he has dirty clothes and messy hair is

because they don’t have money or time. I looked at Adam and saw his face all

scrunched up and eyes shut. He was crying. I felt sorry for him and his uncomfortable

life, but I didn’t know what to say; so, I said nothing and just pulled Grace to start setting

up the project. I wish I did say something, but I didn’t. That still makes me feel

uncomfortable.

 

The next week, Adam and his family got sick, so we could not go to his house. I

asked Grace if we could go to her house, but she shook her head very fast and asked to

go to mine. After spending a few hours on the project, my dad came up to my room and

called us both down to dinner. Dinner was very normal…very comfortable. My parents

held hands while we prayed, I talked about my day, and we laughed when my little

brother flung a pea at my dad with his spoon. Grace, however, looked very

confused…very uncomfortable. When dinner was over and I brought her to my room, I

asked Grace if she was okay. She said that she was just wondering why my family was

having such a good day. When I didn’t say anything, Grace continued and asked why

she didn’t hear anyone yelling at each other. Again, I did not answer. I did not know how

to answer. My family doesn’t yell at each other, unless my brother or I are doing

something naughty or dangerous like drawing on the walls or jumping off couches.

Grace explained how her parents are always yelling each other and when they get tired

of that, they yell at her. Grace also said that the reason she loves school is because it

feels more calm and safe than her house. Again, like with Adam, I did not know what to

say. School had always been the most stressful and complicated thing to me. It made

me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t understand how something so uncomfortable to me

could be the most comfortable thing in the world to someone else.

 

The day of the project presentations came. I felt like I learned a lot about Grace

and Adam. The three of us became really good friends. Grace and I helped Adam with

some cleaning after school. That made him feel more comfortable. Adam and I made

sure to invite Grace over to our houses a lot when the fighting was especially loud at her

house. That made her feel more comfortable. Walking into the classroom, I saw that Mrs. Lansbury was gone. She had a broken arm for the last few classes, so I thought

she was at the doctor. When I went home, my mom was waiting on the couch for me

and asked me to sit. I told her all about my project and explained how I was sad that

Mrs. Lansbury was gone. Mom got a sad look on her face and told me that Mrs.

Lansbury would not be coming back to school. I asked her why, and she said that Mrs.

Lansbury’s husband was not a good man and that she was being hurt and needed to go

to a safe place where her husband couldn’t find her. I started crying and screaming

about why so many bad things were happening. Confused, my mom asked me what I

meant. I told her all about Adam taking care of his family and Grace’s screaming

parents. I told her that I didn’t understand how they were handling their

uncomfortableness so well and how I wasn’t, even though I did not even come close to

their level of uncomfortable. My mom, with a sad smile, took my hand and gave me a

hug. She then, with a quiet expression, but confident voice, said that everyone is

brought into this world with an uncomfortable. My uncomfortable is change like with

people, school, and my home. Adam and Grace’s uncomfortable is their families. Mom

said that in order to have a good life, everyone needs to learn how to become stronger

than what bothers them…to be a “warrior to the uncomfortable.” I asked how I could

even come close to being a warrior when so many other people, people like Adam,

Grace, and Mrs. Lansbury, have such a harder fight. Mom smiled and reminded me that

my uncomfortable was change. In order for me to be a warrior to my uncomfortable, I

had to accept change by helping others with change, just like how I helped Adam clean

and Grace avoid home. I ran back to school the next day, told Adam and Grace what

my mom said to me, and we all agreed that we had to make a change. Adam talked to the principal about his situation, and the principal offered his dad a janitorial position.

His mom was also hired as a cook. Adam said it’s not much, but it helped a lot. Grace

finally yelled back at her parents and told them how she was feeling in her own home.

Her parents agreed to counseling, and Grace said that they are making progress and

seem happier. I even heard, a few years later of course, that Mrs. Lansbury finally got a

divorce and was able to go back to teaching. From that day on, now that I am nineteen

years old, Grace, Adam, and I are still best friends. And every time we see someone

who is struggling, even if they are just not wanting to get out of bed, we simply offer a

helping hand and remind them that they are just becoming warriors to the

uncomfortable.