In the land of Chocolo, a lone wolf was raised with no home, family, or friends. The wolf was brave. He was ready to take on the world.…
Every morning, after I see Renji off to office, I close the grill door behind me ,put a chain around and lock it……
What do you see when you look in the mirror? Are you pleased, or do you immediately come up with an endless list of insecurities? As a child one of my favorite memories was laying around the house with my older sister on rainy days. We would leave the windows open so we could hear the rain coming down on the tin roof over our patio, while watching reruns of our favorite tv show “America's Next Top Model”. I always thought that these women were gorgeous and I would catch myself constantly comparing their looks to my own. I wanted to be just like them until I realized the unrealistic expectations that they had to live up to. A sizeable butt and breasts, but not too large; they have got to be proportional. A skinny waist, impeccable hair, blemish free face although even with clear skin you are expected to cake on makeup because no one is actually pretty without mile long eyelashes, the perfect smoky eye, and exemplary contouring. Society has idolized these things as “beautiful” and shamed the girls that do not meet these standards; however, society should be making everyone feel confident in their bodies. Girls need to know that it is okay not to have an “hourglass figure” so they don’t…
Have you ever felt like an outsider in a group (different or isolated from other members)? Explain.…
“You know you see the world differently than most,” my mother once said casually in a passing moment between antics. Automatically this statement set a blanket of panic over me. We were driving to the grocery store; I wasn’t expecting my mom to just drop a philosophical bomb on me. It was one of those things I never thought about before. Did I see more colors than other people? Do I actually see ghosts? Does everyone else see ghosts? What cool ghost parties have I missed out on? While the questions I first presented don’t really mean anything this was unknowingly the foundation for a core belief of mine. I believe in people’s perspective.…
I don’t know how to begin to define myself in order for you to understand who I truly am. I believe there is more to a person than stories that mould us into who we are today; like when one asks, “Tell me your story," I don’t think about that time when my family broke into two or that time I was diagnosed with my mental illnesses. I think of coffee, because coffee is bitter and bitter people drink coffee, sad people; people with heavy hearts and heavy footsteps, with tangled thoughts, people with anxiety and words left unspoken, people like me. Lonely people drink coffee. I think of the world map I have in my room with thumbtacks marking every country I want to visit. I think of foreign languages, and how beautiful it sounds when words form…
Moving on is easy but what you leave behind is what makes it hard. Once you get to a certain age in your life you know you have to move on sometime. I know times are hard but you have to push yourself toward what you really want in life even if it means moving away from what you love.…
In sixth grade, I stood before a podium that stared back at my English class. This was not how I envisioned sharing my love for reading and writing; however, it was required. My palms felt sticky, and I just knew that the entire class could see my heart as it was about to hop from the walls that kept it safe. I prayed that I would not forget the lines as I recited The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. In sixth grade, reading, writing, and I started a relationship. Today, we have yet to break up.…
Samantha was my savior and protector till the struggle of social life took over our compact minds. I remember when Samantha and I first met in Kindergarten; I had just back to Fort Hood from Germany and hardly spoke English. I was the middle of the school year, kids had just come back from winter break and everybody knew each other by then but me. My new teacher had seated me next to Samantha and Sam welcomed me warmly. Sam would help me with assignments and talking to other kids and stood up for me against cruel kids when no one else would from kindergarten to third grade. I saw her as not only my best friend, but also my hero. However, Sam became more distant throughout the years and started talking to me less, but I didn't think anything…
time for me to begin my 10 minute warming up. I move my head side to side, stretch my legs, and I begin to walk briskly. I drank my water because I need to stay hydrated. When I was ready I sprinted out like a rocket. My brother began to time me. It took me 12 minutes to finish my one mile. Once I felt that my heart was pounding, my stomach started to develop painful cramps, and my My throat was as dry as a bone. I stopped and took deep breaths in and out. I took a five minute break and finished my 3 miles by walking. Once I finished my three miles I felt proud of myself and motivated for the next days to…
Identity and personality are what makes each individual unique. Everyone has experimented different life periods which come with different life experience. Self-identity develops who we are and how we are shaped into the person we are today. In my 16 years I have learned life lessons that come from past experience and that have influence on me in many different ways.…
Ever since I was born, I was a military brat. Not knowing where to call home, or if any place could be home, I moved. I moved six times, four of those places were towns that nobody could think about. Germany, North Carolina, Alaska, North Carolina, Germany, and Alaska, yet no place to call home. May 22, 1999, my first day on this world; Kronach hospital had its first American baby in their hands, yet they acted like I was a different species. The only event I remember was when I was about one. While I was one, I grabbed everything in my reach, even a grill handle. As a baby, I did not know that the handle was moving, the grill top had smashed my thumb. Ever since that event, I now have a starfish mark on the side of my right thumb from where the stiches were.…
I always keep this poem and picture in my wallet. I take it everywhere with me because it means quite a lot to me in two very different ways. One of those ways is because it holds sentimental value. When I was younger I learned to read very late in life and I was always so embarrassed of that. My father knew that I was struggling and bought me the book, Where the Sidewalk Ends. It is a book full of poems and little pictures written by Shel Silverstein. I remember opening the book to ta random page, and it was the page with this poem. I then remember my dad asking me to read it to him. I was so uncomfortable, even thought I was just going to be reading to my dad. He gave me some words of encouragement, and even thought I was not able to read…
Being an outsider is a real struggle. Not only do you feel like you don’t fit in or belong but it is lonely. The feeling of being an outsider can consume your every thought. It make you emotional, and sad. Although it is a terrible feeling it can help you learn something important. I felt like an outsider when i moved from here to Washington.…
People are like clay in the process of being sculpted, always changing and never be the same afterwards. We age, learn and grow everyday of our lives. Sometimes we experience events that change us in some way and we can look back on that event and recognize a difference before and after that moment. A life-changing experience that greatly contributed to forming the person I am today occurred during a three day confirmation retreat. I was born and raised Catholic, so it was expected that I would do Confirmation, and up until that point, I had been mostly passive about it before, seeing it as simply another after school activity.…