My Favorite Room Jared Andrew Michaud

During my junior year of high school, I moved homes and got my own bathroom. For a sixteen-year-old, this is second best to getting your own car. I was elated. I would no longer have to worry about my brothers taking candid photos of me on the toilet and sending them to family and friends. Those days were gone. I soon discovered, though, that the bathroom was a special place for me.

No, I didn’t turn my bathroom into a bachelor pad or a man cave. I instead developed a liking for my bathroom because of its ulterior meaning to me. The bathroom became a place for me to unwind, to have Jared time. It’s where I can process my day, Skype a long-distance friend, or just clear my mind. With my far from enjoyable digestive issues, my fondness of the bathroom is certainly questionable. Nevertheless, the bathroom provides me with time to myself. After a busy day of school, meetings, sports, play rehearsal, voice lessons, and homework, I go to the bathroom and I take some time to just slow down.

My bathroom does not have any windows. While some may view this as a ventilation concern, it actually makes my escape much more vivid. I live in a small rural community where a boy becomes a man when he buys a snowmobile; where hunting, fishing,...