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Stepping
Out of the Box by Jill
Can one incident or experience change the course
of one’s life? Can one specific event determine
one’s destiny? Is it possible to escape the
experiences of one’s past, or will they inevitably
influence the decisions and outcome of one’s
future? Many people believe in the principle of
universal determinism: “everything that comes
into being is caused in such a way that it could
not have been otherwise.” If we apply this
principle to our everyday lives, can we conclude
that our fate is entirely predetermined? Or do choice,
free will, and experience influence the path of
our lives?
Lily and I were four when we first met. After the
first day of Junior Kindergarten, we immediately
knew that we would be best friends. Unlike me, Lily
was loud, outgoing, and constantly getting in trouble.
Mrs. Murphy, our teacher, sat us together in hopes
that I would keep her in line. Unfortunately, I
did not do a very good job at it. Lily talked constantly,
whispered secrets in my ear, and never paid attention.
Although she was considered a “trouble-maker,”
Lily was extremely smart. She was the first student
to learn how to write her name; she was the best
student at drawing and painting pictures; she was
the greatest student at singing; she was the most
popular student at recess; and she was the prettiest
student in our class. Lily’s charismatic personality
captivated the entire school. With one smirk or
smile, the teachers would often excuse her constant
chatter and disruptions. Everyone loved her!
It did not take long before Lily and I become inseparable.
We were soon known to the world as “Jill and
Lil” the “twins joined at the hip.”
We spent every waking moment with one another: sitting,
talking and playing together at school and residing
at each other’s houses on weekends. We were
so close that friends and teachers would often refer
to me as Lily, or Lily as Jillian. Eventually, we
even began to respond to each other’s names.
Over the next five years, our relationship continued
to develop and the bond we possessed became exceptionally
strong and virtually unbreakable. We were more than
just pals; we were “bosom friends,”
soul mates and “kindred spirits.” Together
we shared an incommunicable spiritual connection,
though we did not sense its power at the time.
Lil and I were eight when the event occurred that
would forever impact my life. It was a rainy Saturday
afternoon and we were stuck in my house, miserable
because we were not allowed to play outside. Fortunately
we were both very creative, and resourceful when
deciding how to spend our time together. We often
invented new and original games, which we did not
allow anyone but ourselves to take part in. Our
favourites included: spying on our brothers, writing
poems, creating innovative stories and acting them
out, writing songs, which we recorded on the old
tape recorder, and creating scenarios with our brothers’
transformer toys and our dolls (although I always
hated playing with the stereotypical “girly”
dolls).
Our favourite place to play was the basement. Although
dark and cold, we loved it downstairs because it
was the most secluded and private part of the house.
We often went down there to get away from my older
brother and his friends, who refused to let us join
in their games. Together, Lily and I would practice
our hockey skills in hopes that next time we would
be “good” enough to play with the boys.
The murky smell of basement filled the air, as we
entered the damp, mysterious, little room, which
held our toys and treasures. Cluttered with storage
boxes, laundry, sports equipment, and other gems,
it was a room in which we never ceased to be amused.
My family had just bought a new dishwasher, and
the cardboard box it came in was left in the basement.
What a perfect play toy for our young imaginative
minds to make use of! The life sized dishwasher
box was large enough to fit both our petite bodies
inside. We both went in, and the adventures began.
At first, we were astronauts riding in a spaceship
to Mars; next we were deep-sea scuba divers, exploring
the treasures of the ocean; and then we were princesses
trapped in a tower with no escape, waiting for our
princes to rescue us. Our imagination carried us
to places inconceivable, and beyond this universe.
After several hours of inventing and “making
believe,” I became tired, and sat on the cold,
cement floor inside the cardboard box. “I
don’t want to play anymore,” I said.
“Let’s go upstairs.” “No,”
Lily said, “now let’s pretend I’m
a boy and you’re a girl, and we’ve just
gotten married.” Although I had some idea
of where this game would lead, I yielded to her
suggestion, and went along with this new idea. I
remember I was excited yet nervous at the same time.
I had never done anything like this before. Slowly,
we pulled down each other’s pants, and were
exposed to one another. Suddenly, footsteps from
upstairs worried me! I perked up my ears, listening
for my parents, hoping they would not come down
and catch me doing anything “naughty”.
My heart raced as we gently touched one another.
“I love you,” Lily whispered, as she
kissed me tenderly.
I stepped out of that cardboard box a changed person.
At the end of grade three, Lily told me she was
moving to another school. I remember my eyes welling
with tears, as my heart sank in my chest and ached
with grief. We both embraced and cried in each other’s
arms. We had never talked about the experience we
had shared together several months earlier. I assumed
she had forgotten about it. I wanted to remind her
of it, and to let her know that I would never forget
her. I was however, too young and inarticulate to
express my true feelings. I let Lily pass through
my life like a spring breeze through the trees.
Throughout my adolescence, I often thought of this
experience from my childhood. I continually rationalized
it by convincing myself that all children experiment
with their sexuality, with their bodies, and with
their friends. I persistently told myself that it
meant nothing, and that I had done nothing wrong.
It was only when I was sixteen that I began to realize
that the feelings I had had for Lily were similar
to feelings I had recently been having for other
girls. Indescribable emotions of intense friendship
and passion, that until then I could not comprehend
nor explain. At first I thought they were feelings
of admiration and awe, for girls and women whom
I aspired to be like. I later realized however,
that these intense feelings were of love and infatuation
for other females.
It is only recently that I have come to terms with
my sexual orientation, and have begun the process
of accepting and loving myself for who I am. I seek
others who are accepting and tolerant, ones in whom
I can confide in, and who also love me for who I
am. I have fallen in and out of love with many girls
over the past few years, and I know, that some day
soon I will find the one that is right for me.
I think of Lily often, and wonder if our “experience”
has had the same impact on her as it has had on
me. I wonder if she even remembers me, or if she
ever thinks about that rainy Saturday afternoon
in my basement. I wonder if it was that single incident
with Lily that determined my destiny, or if, even
without her, I was determined to be the person I
am today.
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