At twelve years of age I was the last one cut from 7up’s little league team in the majors, and picked up by ACS Auto Supply in the minor league in the Long Beach, California Little League.
I was sad and embarrassed. Sad because this was the second straight time I was cut. Embarrassed because some of my friends had graduated to the Pony League.
I’ve written about this before. What I failed to mention (I think) was I hit nine home runs in the minor league. I didn’t think it was worth the mention. But now I do for several reasons. One, nine home runs is nine home runs in any league for the number of games we played. Two, to discount my achievement is to discount the thousands of kids who were proud of playing baseball in the minor league. Three, to discount it is to discount the hundreds of hundreds of hours adults spent umpiring, coaching, preparing the field, volunteering in the refreshment booths, and attending games.
It all matters.
Once again, writing about subjects that had embarrassed me works for me psychologically. Inside they are huge, outside in the open, they are very small. And especially small with the passage of time.
It’s the subjects in our lives we wish to hide and never reveal: they are those that torment us most. Talk them out of their hiding places. Talk them out with those you trust most. Choose older wise people to talk to.
My experience became an insignificant one once I chose to reveal it.
There are people who have chosen to hide much worse experiences than I had, much, much worse, but the principle is the same. Get it out into the open. Free yourself.