Lina A., Centerville High School
Pain Becomes Protection
The first thing that usually comes to mind when you think of the word happiness is that it’s simply a reaction — Something that happens when life is treating you well and easily, but when you grow up in a house where yelling is normal and silence feels safe, you start to learn things people don’t understand at such a young age. Happiness is just a choice — and a hard one.
As the oldest child in a harmful household, I’ve always felt like there was no room for mistakes, and I felt like I had responsibilities that were heavy for my age. I was the one to help with homework, clean messes, wipe tears, and keep everything together like glue. I don''t have room for failure — not when I have two younger brothers looking up to me like I’m the only normal thing they have. Some days, I feel like I carry the weight of my whole family on my shoulders.
My home has never been the warm place I wish it could’ve been. Most days are filled with arguing and yelling. Words hit you like bullets, and everyone’s on thin ice. My brothers see and hear more than kids their age should listen to. One night, after an argument that felt like a boxing match. I remember seeing them sitting in the hallway. The way they looked at me — with fear in their eyes — I’ll never forget. It lives in my head rent-free. They were just sitting there, looking down like it was safer if they just didn’t exist.
I sat with them and started talking about anything — school, toys, games, funny memories. It was something small, but they laughed. I watched their shoulders start to relax for a few minutes. The noises in our house started to become smaller and smaller until they felt like they just faded away. That moment made me realize something.
I started choosing happiness on purpose. I made silly conversations a routine. I celebrated the little things with them. I gave them extra big hugs and had tiny little dance battles. None of this was because life got better, but because I wanted them to believe life could get better.
It wasn’t easy. Some days, I felt like I was putting on an act. Some days I still feel that way, but I don’t want my little brothers to grow up with a heavy heart like I did; The unbearable pain that just never seems to go away. So happiness just seemed like the better option.
Over time, I started to see that change. My brothers started being more open with me. They started to share their worries, their stories, and we laughed together. The younger one said to me, “I feel better when you’re here.” That broke my heart — but in a good way.
Mrs. Dorthy said, “Being good + doing good = being happy.” So to choose happiness, you have to break the cycle — so the next generation doesn’t suffer too!
