Today's confession: I still harbor a teenage grudge against Fake-o the Faux Asthmatic.
When I was a teenager, I belonged to a youth group that spent a good part of each year learning choreography,
One such summer, a fellow
The group would crowd around her, terrified expressions, her closest pals on the verge of tears, and the leaders would demand that I hand over my inhaler. I'm an actual asthmatic, you see. I always have an emergency inhaler on me. I need it at least once a day but most people don't know this because asthma doesn't make you have a freaking seizure. The leaders knew about it because it was on the paperwork my parents filled out each year. I would begrudgingly hand over my inhaler. Once I even pretended not to have it on me and walked to my hotel room and back before handing it over because (a) I wanted to prove that she was a faker and (b) I'm kind of a douche.
These fake asthma attacks would make me so angry. She was stealing my disease thunder and doing a bad job of it. Not to mention I was certain that at some point on the trip, I would need the inhaler and all of my puffs would have been puffed into that
Your turn. Do you need to confess anything? I won't hate if you do so anonymously. I might think you a pansy but I won't know who you are, so who cares. Sharing is caring...