Remembering My Childhood on the Continent of Africa

I was in elementary school when I first met her. Her name was Nicole. She was a tomboyish girl and played sports a lot, not really me. Her woredrobe consisted of oversized Nike shirts and baggy jeans. She was a pretty girl but was always shy when it came to boys, unless she was beating them up of course. She stayed like this up until high school. She was always a good athlete, she played soccer and field hockey. Her first time picking up a field hockey stick she made the varsity team at our high school which was hard to do even if you've been playing for a long time. She was naturally gifted. And she was smart. She was perfect. I had never noticed her perfection until other people started to point it out. I'd have people coming up to me asking "so you're friends with Nikki? she's so hot! you're so lucky!" i didn't think much of it until my crush started to develop a crush on her. That's when the envy kicked in.

Of course Nicole being Nicole didn't care about the attention. She was just being herself. And she was always modest about how well she did something. She never would take credit for anything she did on her own, it was always because of someone else, which I admired. However, when I heard about my crush liking her I became very jealous. I noticed everything about her, and the sad part was I was trying to find imperfections and faults but I couldn't find any. So I decided I would try and be like her. I wore my hair the same way, dressed the same, and tried to excel at soccer but nothing could ever match up to who she was. And that's when it hit me, I shouldn't be jealous or envious of her at all. She was being herself. I should be admiring her, not trying to be her. And that's what I did. I admired her for who she was and not caring what others thought. She was perfect.