When I was in the ninth grade I learned what it felt like to really hate everything. School’s hard, you have hours upon hours of homework a night and for the first time you don’t understand what you’re doing. Your parents are practically breathing down your necks, “Did you take your practice SAT II?” “How’s that math homework coming?” “Who are you going with, where are you going, when will you be back?” “Will parents be home? What about alcohol?” “Did you make your bed yet?” The friends you thought would never leave, well, they do. And suddenly you have to wear makeup everyday and your clothes and hair have to be perfect. Too make things worse, now there’s this boy situation and suddenly you’re wondering what’s wrong with you and why you’re single. It sucks.

Everyday I’d see the same faces at school and realize, I hate them. I’d get mountains of homework in English, a class I used to love, and realize, I hate that too. Staying up late, something you always wanted to do as a kid, right? Well, I discovered I also hated that when I’d have no choice but to stay up till midnight writing an essay on Chandra Gupta Mauyra and his impact on Indian society only to wake up at 6 am to be on time for Green Club. Some of my friends, that I thought I loved, I realized I hated when they would cause drama for wearing the same shirt as one of them or cancel plans that we’d have for weeks because the next better opportunity came along. Theatre, an activity I used to fully enjoy, was now a nuisance, taking up precious time I could be using to write about Chandra Gupta Maurya or Odysseus or Shakespeare or whoever I’m up to now. I was miserable.

It was a few weeks ago actually, I had to read a play for a class I’m in called “Our Town.” My teacher went on this whole speech about how one day, one time, when you least expect it you’ll have a “moment,” as he called it, of sheer perfection, when suddenly none of the stuff that’s wrong in your life matters and you’ll be content. I didn’t really put much thought into what he said, I was still too busy trying to figure out how I would finish my essay on the constitutional governments of England and the Netherlands and the absolute monarchies of Russia and France. I left the class unchanged.

But the next Friday, I experienced what my teacher meant and I came to understand what he was talking about. I was driving home with some of my friends, my brother had picked us up from a movie and we were just in the car headed home. It was the perfect weather, cold enough for jeans and comfy sweaters, but not freezing cold either. While speeding down the boulevard a song came on, “Titanium” by David Guetta, I never really cared about the song, it was just a song to me and I was unaffected. But one of my friends demanded that we turn it up as loud as we can and roll down all the windows, so we did. I don’t really know how but suddenly it became me and some of my best friends, all the people I care most about in the world, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs. And we were laughing and getting weird looks from people in other cars but we didn’t care. As the car picked up speed and the song hit the chorus we threw our hands up and laughed and fell down on the seats. We opened the sun roof and put our hands through it and it just kept building and building and I was out of breath from screaming so much and my face was red from laughing but we still kept going and the wind hit my face and it blew my hair back and I have no idea how long this lasted, probably seconds, but it felt stretched out and suddenly everything was ok.

No, more than ok, because right then it didn’t matter that I had to redo my data table because my first one was completed incorrectly, it didn’t matter that I had to wake up at 7 am the next day to get community service hours to write on my college application, it didn’t matter that I was in a fight with my mom for giving her “attitude,” it didn’t matter that I got a 75% on my math test, and it didn’t matter that I still didn’t have a boyfriend. All that stress and sadness, all of my problems seemed to melt away. I was happy. I didn’t hate everything, I LOVED everything, I loved the wind and my friends and my brother and the moment and yes, I loved the moment. And I believe in moments. And I really wish that everyone on this planet could experience a moment because I’ve never felt warmer or more safe.

Life is a gift. We forget that because it’s buried under the agony of the world but everyday we get gifts. Waking up, music, sleep, trees, chocolate, hoodies, hot showers, sunshine, puppies, laughter, it’s all an underappreciated gift. But, in that one perfect moment, I appreciated all the gifts, and I was aware of all the gifts and today, I still am aware and I still do appreciate. And I don’t hate everyone, because one day, it will all be ok and this I believe.