Peer Pressure and Me: A Love Letter
Have I really just let my life happen to me?
I firmly believe that my whole life up to this point is the fault of… well, everyone else. I’m a victim of peer pressure.
It’s not that I haven’t had any good ideas of my own, but I’ve just tended to follow along with everyone else’s.
In high school, we’d go to parties on the other end of town. Ottawa isn’t a huge city, and their public transit is fine, but we would start out at the east end of Ottawa — one end of the main bus route — and ride it right to the very far west end, the last stop. An hour on a bus in a straight line, then we’d hang out and watch a movie, then bus home again. With a curfew of 10:30. Because someone suggested it, and I said, “ok”.
I had friends that wanted to go rollerskating on Saturday nights, others that wanted to create music video dance routines to Gowan songs and even one that wanted to start an Amnesty International Club.
Did I like to rollerskate? Sure! Did I like to dance? Yes! Did I know what Amnesty International was, or what our club did? Not really. Did I lead letter-writing campaigns and add it onto my resume? You bet.
Choosing a university and a program of study was simple: I had always been told that I had to go to university and that I had…
