Your Life Isn’t Over. It’s Just Beginning.

The following is adapted from Wild Dogs by Christos Kalogirou.

The day I got expelled from Athol Murray College of Notre Dame was the worst day of my life. All my friends, the daily laughs and odd struggles, were gone. I was out. That was it. I wanted to be angry at somebody, but I couldn’t because there was no one to blame but myself. I had created a shitstorm and now I was dry-heaving in it.

I made the rounds and said my goodbyes. They went too fast, like a blur. I was lost. Gutted. Empty. Just numb. And there was no time left.

Then, I was in John’s car and headed to the airport in Regina. I could have taken a taxi, but John had been my houseparent and rugby coach for three years, and he volunteered to take me. John was a great guy — a better friend than I deserved.

At the airport, John asked me if I wanted to get dropped off or if I wanted him to come in. I did want him to come in with me, and I could tell he wanted to also. I thought he had some advice for me and was waiting for the right moment. I needed to hear something that would help me make sense of what had just happened. He must have something to tell me about the mess I had just made of my life.

Before going through security, we decided to get something to eat at Burger King in the airport’s food court. “You know,” said John, leaning in…

Here it comes, I thought, that wisdom that’s going to make it all better. I needed to hear it. You have no idea how badly I needed it.

“The secret,” he said, “to getting hot French fries is to order them without salt. Then they have to make a fresh batch. You can add the salt later yourself.”

That was great advice, sure. Just horrible timing.

John walked me to the security gate, and I think I hugged him. I kind of blanked after that, to be honest. I don’t remember what happened, but I remember how I felt. I’d been crying on and off for days.

On the plane, I settled into my seat and put my head down. I was still crying, but softly now, because I didn’t want to bother anybody.

An older woman sitting next to me in the window seat put her hand on my back. “Young man,” she said. “What’s the matter?”

“My life,” I said, “it’s over.” That’s exactly how I felt. At seventeen, I’d screwed up so badly that there was no going back, no making things right.

“Oh no,” she said, “I think it’s just beginning!”

It would be years before I realized she was right. My life was just beginning.

People say there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, but what if there is no tunnel? Sometimes things get so bad that you can’t see your way out. People say other things too, like, “It’s not about getting knocked down; it’s about getting back up.” Well, sometimes you can’t even think about getting up because you can’t breathe and you’re still falling.

That’s how it was for me that day on the plane. Eventually, I stopped falling and got back on my feet. But before I could stand like a man, I had to face reality. I had to learn to take responsibility for my mistakes and accept the consequences.

We all have to deal with our own consciences, and no amount of denial, no pushing the blame on other people, makes that go away. You can tell people you’re not malicious, not the bad guy. You can say you wouldn’t hurt anybody, at least not intentionally. But none of that matters if you cross a line.

This time, I crossed a line I couldn’t get back from and there was no charming my way out of it. All I could do was face it, learn from it, and try to make up for it. Eventually, I had to figure out how to forgive myself.

Getting kicked out of high school may seem trivial to you. To a kid like me, at that time in my life, it was huge. But you don’t see things clearly when you’re in the middle of them. You don’t see anything — just the problems.

You might be going through a tough time right now. Maybe you’re waiting for someone to show you the way. That’s probably not going to happen. You have to show yourself the way. That light — it’s in you. It’s the good part inside you that’s telling you what’s right. But you can’t see it if you’re blaming other people. Your problems, whether you brought them on yourself or not, are yours to deal with.

For more advice on facing your problems, you can find Wild Dogs on Amazon.

One of the most notorious graduates of the Athol Murray College of Notre Dame, author, entrepreneur, and philanthropist Christos Kalogirou’s story is one of a classic comeback. A former alumni board member and the recipient of the 2014 National Alumnus of the Year, Christos dedicates his time to his various businesses and raises valuable resources for nonprofits, including the Mandi Schwartz Foundation and Hockey Gives Blood.