Growing Up Fast and Learning Early

Intro:

As a teen, I grew up fast.

I existed in a strange middle ground that never really placed me neatly into any category. Growing up, there were always labels. The good kids. The bad kids. The popular ones. The athletes. The smart ones. I never fully belonged to any of them.

I was quiet, withdrawn, and largely kept to myself, yet I always stood up for myself and for others who couldn’t. That combination drew attention. It led to frequent physical conflicts and quietly pushed me toward kids adults warned you about. Before long, I found myself in a place called The Academy, a program for troubled youth. It was a chaotic, reform-style environment filled with kids involved in real crimes. I didn’t fit in there either, but it left its mark.

I also spent a lot of time around older kids and others who didn’t quite fit the mold. I was just thirteen years old when I first had alcohol and marijuana. It’s important for me to say that my parents were phenomenal. They were present. Watchful. They did their job. But the truth is, it does not take much. A sleepover at a friend’s house whose parents were not as involved. A party. A moment without supervision. That’s all it really takes. For many kids, it unfolds slowly. For me, it arrived at full speed.

I found myself in situations most kids my age were not yet equipped to navigate. Smoking marijuana before school, in school, and after school was presented as normal and happened often. Being around behaviors that felt far ahead of where I was in life became routine. That is what happens when you spend time around kids older than you who are already living several steps ahead.

It’s also important to say that I never felt pressured. Not that kids didn't try because they did but because I never felt the need to give in. I only felt presented. With situations. With choices. And you navigate those choices as best as your young mind can. Marjuana and alcohol were the only substances used but I was often exposed to much more damaging substances but never touched them.   

When I say I grew up fast, I do not mean only because of simply what I was exposed to. I mean because of how my mind was forced to develop in response to it.

I experienced alcohol and marijuana as a teenager at thirteen years old and I also stopped doing them as a teenager at nineteen years old. 

Today, at almost thirty-seven years old, I have not put anything like that into my body since the age of nineteen. That’s eighteen years. And I never will again.

Reflection:

While I was still a teenager, I learned something most people don’t discover until much later in life: you can stand among people moving in one direction and decide, internally, not to go with them.

That was when I developed a new set of principles. I began making choices that quietly separated me from what everyone around me was doing. I was always the youngest person in the room, surrounded by kids older than me, and choosing a different path at that age could have been difficult, but I never cared to be “cool” or to fit in. Fitting in never felt more important than staying true to myself. And that feeling intensified each day.

Watching the people around me drink and use drugs didn’t create more curiosity. It created more clarity. I could see where those paths led, and I knew I didn’t want that future. It never truly aligned with me.

Deep down I never understood drugs or alcohol as something beneficial. I never understood voluntarily putting something into your body that worked against it. 

But at the same time, I was involved and exposed to it so frequently. Exposure does not have to determine who you become, but when it goes unexamined, it often does. What matters is whether you pause long enough to question what you are being handed, whether you observe instead of absorb, and whether you choose alignment over availability.

That awareness allowed me to reassess and to change direction.

Even after I made those internal decisions, my environment didn’t change overnight. I was still around the same people. Still in the same rooms. And that’s where another lesson revealed itself.

Your principles are not truly principles until they are tested.

Many people believe they’ve overcome something simply because they’ve put distance between themselves and it. They remove certain people, places, or temptations and assume the problem is solved.

Sometimes, distance is necessary. Stepping away can be the healthiest first move. I’m not suggesting anyone intentionally place themselves in harmful situations, especially when it comes to drugs or destructive substances.

But what I am saying is that distance alone is not enough.

The reality is this: life will eventually test what you say you stand for, whether you seek it out or not. Life does not protect your principles. It pressures them.

And believe me when I tell you standing my ground as the youngest kid in the room, on more occasions than I could count, could definitely qualify as pressure, at least in the sense that it constantly put where I stood to the test. 

You know, I once read something about meditation that stayed with me. It said that learning to meditate in a quiet, controlled room requires focus, discipline, and patience. And doing that well is an achievement worth respecting. But it is only practice.

The real test is whether you can remain centered in chaos. In noise. In distraction. In temptation.

Try it in a crowded room. Try it with conversations overlapping, phones buzzing, music playing, and constant movement. 

Strength in silence is practice. Strength in disorder is mastery.

The same applies when holding true to any principle. A principle is proven and solidified only when it is tested and you remain true to it.

Anyone can say who they are when nothing is pulling at them. Identity is forged when something is. When the easier choice is available. When the familiar path is right there. When no one would blame you for giving in.

That is where alignment is proven.

Most people carry behaviors from their past simply because they were introduced early and never questioned. What is familiar becomes accepted. What is accepted becomes defended. And eventually, it becomes identity.

At some point, every person must decide whether they will live by what is available or by what is aligned.

Sobriety, whether from alcohol, marijuana, or any other harmful pattern, is not just about what you remove. It is about what you stand for. It is about recognizing that you are not required to participate in everything that is socially acceptable. You are not required to consume what is offered simply because it is common.

The moment you realize you can pause, observe, and choose differently is the moment you stop being carried by life and begin directing it.

Principles and identity are forged in moments where you could bend and decide not to.

Each time you hold the line, you reinforce who you are and who you are becoming.

Life will always offer what is easy, familiar, and widely accepted. Alignment asks more. It asks you to move deliberately. To remain intact under pressure. And to live according to what you know is right, not what is simply available.

I have met many adults who are still under the grip of peer pressure, of normalized behaviors that no longer serve them, still living as products of past exposure.

I challenge you to look more deeply at sobriety from harmful substances altogether, even the widely accepted ones like alcohol and marijuana discussed here. If you partake, examine not just those choices, but all of your behaviors. More importantly, ask how firmly you stand in your principles.

Many people become products of their environment. I was fortunate enough to become a student of mine.

And I still am. When it comes to life, you never stop being a student. Listen. Learn. Change. It’s never too late.

What you are handed does not have to be taken or carried forward simply because it is offered. Some things are meant to be refused and left where they belong, in the past.

Action:

Follow these steps in order.

1. Identify what keeps getting handed to you.
Pay attention this week to what shows up repeatedly in your life. Substances, behaviors, conversations, environments, expectations. Notice what is offered so often that it feels normal.

2. Pause instead of reacting.
The next time something familiar is offered, do not decide immediately. Create space. Even a few seconds of awareness breaks automatic participation.

3. Ask one question.
Does this move me toward alignment, or is it simply available? You do not need a long justification. Clarity comes from asking the right question.

4. Practice refusal without explanation.
You are not required to explain yourself. Not to friends. Not to family. Not to social norms. Practice saying no without defending the decision.

Take the Next Step:

If you are ready to stop being shaped by what surrounds you and start living by what you stand for, structure matters. I work with people who want clarity, standards, and accountability around health and life decisions. Apply for health and wellness coaching.

Men can also apply to The Intentional Man, a men’s group built around discipline, responsibility, and alignment under pressure.