Specific experiences from my childhood were done so frequently and on such an annual basis that I learned to predict their appearance in my life each June, July, or August like clockwork. 

Eventually, no matter how highly anticipated the highs of the summer are, they always seem to be closely followed by the lull of endless nights and inactive minds. 

However, right before true blandness set in, it seemed my younger years were saved by the youthful delights of amusement park rides, cotton candy, and infinite amounts of heat.

One very relentless moment breaches the surface of my mind when anyone asks for a memory from those charming summers. 

I was at an amusement park—no older than the age of seven—surrounded by vibrant temptation: snacks, arcade games, and roller coasters galore. When my eyes landed on the drop tower, its energetic colors did little to combat the anxiety, with a side of anticipation that struck me at first glance. 

Despite the pit in my stomach that seemed to deepen with each step towards the menacing tower, I decided that, without a doubt, I wouldn’t leave unless I had ridden on the drop tower. 

What possessed my adolescent brain to make such a decision, I am unsure of to this day. But one thing I know for certain is that the unwavering determination I felt within my soul to get on this ride continued to persist. 

I don’t think my commitment to riding the drop tower was brought out by the fact that it would be particularly fun—because it was terrifying above all else—but rather that I was a decisive child and riding the drop tower was what I put my mind to at that moment. 

So that’s exactly what I did; I rode the drop tower. 

Aside from the fact that this story has been retold to me on multiple occasions by a variety of family members that witnessed the event, I remember it for myself quite well. In fact, I often think back on it and use it as a metaphor to describe my current life. 

Back then, although my troubles were inferior to my current problems, at least I knew what I wanted, and I went towards it at full force. 

I don’t think it’s the lack of determination that is my current predicament because even now, if I felt it was important to me, I would in fact ride the drop tower. I feel the real issue is that I lack direction.

With no vessel or purpose to pour my persistence into, no drop tower to focus my sights on, or simply no clear end goal, I am a lost, slightly more mature version of the girl that knew her mission.

I wish so desperately to once again find something to channel such pure dedication into, and I hope deeply that when I do definitively find such a thing, I will be as confident in that decision as I was when I decided to get on such a threatening ride at age seven.