Far outweighing me and much older, he stood a full head taller. He smiled coldly as he looked down at me and moved forward, not bothering to raise his fists in defense, certain he’d knock me out with a single blow.

True, I was just a kid…

I looked like a juvenile junkie — barely standing; reeking of tequila, gin, and tobacco; my fingers brown with nicotine.

Dodging under his first swing, I swept his legs, sending him crashing to the ground, and unleashed my wrath. The fight was over in less than a minute. Only then, covered in his blood, did I return the smile.

Until I turned thirteen, I had dreamed of hiking through jungles, climbing mountains, diving in tropical waters, and exploring the globe. There had been no doubt in my mind that I would become a world adventurer like my favorite explorer, Jacques Cousteau.

In a few short years though, my life had fallen far from those goals, and my hope for a brighter future seemed gloomier every month.

I understood the economics of life, that I’d never be an adventurer. Nobody was paid to just travel the world, a sentiment my parents had drummed into me as fact. I had lived my entire childhood engrossed in a utopian dream, and I was being forced to outgrow it, becoming an empty young teenager.

My life was now all about survival — and the only way I knew how to do that was by fighting. I didn’t care whether I lived or died. Dying would come as a relief. In every fight, a part of me hoped to be killed.

I didn’t do it to hurt people. I fought because I wanted to be hurt, to be hit, to feel something other than numb. My adventurous goals had vanished.

Gangs became the closest thing that felt like family to me, but even with those ties I still experienced profound loneliness. Slipping into a criminal world, lacking guidance and support from my own family, I had lost my soul. I was on the surest path toward self-destruction.

But deep inside my heart, despite the pain and the doubts, there lived a breath of hope: a long-held dream. I can only attribute its endurance to its unfailing strength in my earlier childhood.

It was the only thing that kept me alive.