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Don't Even Get Me Started

I never knew how to swim. I still don't. And I'm pretty terrified of it.

The summer I turned 11, my parents sent me to take lessons. It was six weeks, and more specifically, six weeks of me kicking and screaming. And the whole time I knew I wasn't just humiliating myself, but my parents too. But I just didn't care. I wanted out of there so badly, and I just didn't care about anything else. I know, sounds bratty, right? But they threw me in the deep end during the second week. And like someone else who posted their story, I was thrown out for holding the whole class back. 

Now I'm getting signed up for swim lessons AGAIN. I practically begged not to go and spare myself, as well as them, from further humiliation. But nothing's happened with the lessons plan yet, and hopefully it doesn't. Because at summer camp that very same year, my instinct when I walked into the pool room was "DON'T GO NEAR THAT WATER....."

God willing, they'd better cancel those lessons. Swimming isn't a life necessity; I don't HAVE to learn how. I mean, I've met so many people who don't know how to swim who are decades older than I am. So what's the use in learning, really?
whatsername1229 whatsername1229 13-15 May 2, 2012

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