Finding Pride in Red, White, and Blue

It has been a little over a month since I returned from Singapore. It has been a month now that I have settled back into my routine. It has been a month to process everything from that incredible experience.

The reason I wanted to write this blog is because I had a moment...I had a moment that really affected me. This moment happened a few weeks ago and the after-effects have resonated with me ever since. This moment happened because of the great experience I had at the Youth Olympic Games...in fact it wouldn't have happened without it...

I went running a few weeks ago. I ran a course that I have run tons of times. I ran past buildings I was familiar with and ran past scenery I almost never noticed twice. However, this particular run was different. For the first time in probably 25 years, I noticed the American flag. I saw this flag blowing in the wind, waving in all of its red, white, and blue glory. For the first time in 25 years it struck me and overwhelmed me with a sense of pride.

Ok, so let me explain this a bit. Is this really the first time I ever felt pride for my country? Short answer: no. I've felt pride for the United States at many times throughout my 25 years of existence, but not like this. For the first time I was overwhelmed with this feeling. I felt the warmth of pride rush through my body. I was proud of those colors waving in the wind. I was proud to be an American. Lee Greenwood rang through my head.

I spent almost three weeks spending time with people who were from all over the world. For three weeks I was not surrounded by people who live in my country. Not many people understand what this feels like. If I did not wear something 'USA' then I felt as if I was betraying my country. I felt the need and desire to dress like the 4th of July every day because I wanted people to know where I was from.

Now I am at home and there may not be a need to dress like an American flag every day, but there is room for me to have a bit more pride in my country. I know I can make more of an effort to be proud of where I live and be proud of the culture that I have.

It has been a month since I returned to my home country and I have not looked at an American flag the same way since. I may not be fighting in a war or doing everything that I can to be the best citizen, but I love my country and love my life. I am proud to be an American, even if it took my 25 years to realize that...