I Am My Friend And My Most Loyal Fan

Looking back on my childhood and at all of the dreams I had, I have to realize that my life today is far from what I had dreamed of. Growing up without a mother and raised by an absentee father, I had to learn at an early age to take care of myself and to depend on myself for my basic needs. I spent most of my days daydreaming about the mother I did not have. In my dream world, she was well and alive: a beautiful, loving and caring woman who loved me unconditionally. I grew up, graduated from college, married a man with three children of his own, and realized that I still, more than ever, live in a dream world where my mother is well and alive. In my forties, I am a grown

Chapter 8: I love this chapter so much. "People who care for others have been found to have less depression and higher life satisfaction-they are more protected from disease and even death." (Napoli, 2014). My mom has been my greatest example and my anchor in life. The divorce between my parent is quite ugly. They have been divorce for over a decade; my dad still talks about bad things behind her back. I confronted my father that I know the exact reasons behind the divorce and asked him to stop talking bad things about mom. Sometimes, I will tell my mom what my dad said about her. She would not be angry; instead, she will ask me to forget about what he said and do not let it disturb me. My parent has mutual friends, and I thought my mom will be disconnected with all of them. Instead, she still stays in touch with them and even hang out with them. She is such a woman who has a big and loving heart!

Two years ago I began to separate myself from the world, and almost everyone who lived in it. I would come home every day after school, and lock myself in my room for hours on end. I had begun to become unhappy, and the work I had put into my anxiety had begun to back peddle. I would lose myself to the electronic world because I believed that I was destined for failure in the real world. Hope seemed to escape from me. I mentally shut doors on almost everyone and everything related to the real world because I believed that reality was the source of my misery. I might have shut every door that connected me to this world, but to my surprise I forgot to shut an open window. My mother is the one person who I could never willingly separate from, she was my light in the darkness. I felt as though I had fallen into a deep darkness that nobody could ever make any brighter, and then suddenly my mom flipped the light switch. I needed someone to believe in me, I needed a sliver of hope in a world full of pain and agony. I continued to grow into the person I am today, and I began to accept that neither I or the world is

As a sophomore in highschool, I began to realize that some grave changes at the present time caused my life, emotions, and beliefs to shift to an oppressive level. Everything didn’t go as planned after this specific point of my life and the results afterward gave the impression of wanting to receive a mercy killing or run away when the opportunity came to present itself. My past life experiences could be compared to the famous book Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe due to the intense family disputes and relatable family relationships in the story. Things seemed to reach a breaking point when my mother began to use all her money at casinos in or out of state and left either me or my grandmother at the house to babysit my two siblings. Her actions induced homelessness, gambling addiction, constant family disputes, and sheer depression.

When I was a child, I faced many obstacles that I believe children should never have to go through. My mother walked out on my sisters and I at a young age, which left me with no motherly role model in my life. This had a negative impact on me and on my self-esteem. I always came to believe that if my mother never cared for me then why should I care for myself. I was never fully able to have satisfaction within myself because of my past experiences. While growing up, my dad eventually remarried to my stepmom. My stepmom was a real piece of art ever since they got together. She always had it out for me because in her eyes, I resembled my mother, which she could not stand. With the conflicts I was faced with, my self-esteem was low and

I graduated from college and found a job at a law office, the law in a practice sense was very different than the class room and I hated it. I remained best friends with my sister, my mother and I were still very close even though she was busy finding herself. I became very close with one friend who was my support, she accepted me without judgment and was a very significant person in my life. I was still in a relationship with the guy I met before college, he was four years older than myself and played the role of a father which, I was of the need of at this period of time in my life. We bought a house together when I was 22, I was focused on finances and renting seemed as if it was a waste of money. Looking back, this period of time had little obligations which gave me the ability to I travel and lived selfishly, although I was always anxious and overwhelmed. I wasn’t completely clear as to who I was and what I wanted to be. I was married at 25 however, was divorced two years

Learning that my dad had decided to move out and divorce my mother came as a huge surprise to my family, no one saw it coming. My mother and I fell into the grasp of depression. She lost so much weight dropping down to 110-115 lbs., her face lacked color and her body was so frail. She would force a smile when my sister was around but I recognized the pain in her eyes because I felt it too. I found myself suppressing my emotions so that I would come off as OK, so that my mom wouldn’t have to worry about me, so that my sister didn’t realize that

Hello everyone. Im Jinny’s daughter and second child, Sara and Im 17. I am not quite sure where to even begin here, so let me start from the beginning. My first memory of mom was during some party during the summer in our backyard. I was about 2 or 3 years old, and my memory is very fuzzy, but I remember there being family and love and celebration. My mom was the kind of person who never thought of herself and would give up anything to make sure everyone else was happy. She created an environment around her so everyone felt accepted and loved. Right from the beginning she was there for me and she never let me go. No matter how hard I tried to escape her unconditional love. She went on every single girl scout camping trip I had so I didn’t have to be alone with those bratty girls. I wanted my independence from her back then, but now I would give anything to spend one more night in those cramped cabins with her.

To start with, my mother grew up without the help of anyone; her father was an alcoholic and her mother passed away when she was just 3 years old, not to mention, my dad ultimately left her when he found out that she was pregnant with me. While growing up, I had learned to value the little things in life merely because my mother - who was just a teenager when she had me - was compelled to work extremely hard in order to sustain and support me. During my childhood, I would always wish that I had never been born. I felt as if I was just another huge obstacle for my poor mother, who was barely an adult herself. Due to the circumstances, I couldn’t have everything that other kids would have. Me, being the terrible kid I am, would constantly argue with my mom whenever she wasn’t able to afford something. I would intentionally ask her questions that I knew would hurt her just to win the argument. In my defense, I was fighting for myself, trying to get her to see my problems. At the time, I didn’t realize how much effort she put in for me, for both of us. I was childish and greedy, and I was too focused on

From the outside looking in people thought I had the perfect high school life. I had friends, I was on dance team, and a fairly popular girl. None of that mattered to me more than being a good student. I pride myself on hard work and being witty. I was in a great school and things were going wonderfully. Until my parents divorced and went separate ways. I was forced to choose and naturally I chose my mother. In the time following my mother’s divorce my mother fell into a deep depression. This depression led to a suicide attempt. Knowing that my sister had up and ran off to the military, I could not leave her alone. So I stopped going to school. I stayed home daily watching over my mother. Cleaning, cooking, and taking care of her became my daily

My crucible involves my life moving to United States from the Philippines and the hardships I have went through during the time of getting use to everything. I was born in the Philippines and only stayed there only four years, the only language I spoke was Filipino which is the native language. Overall, my time there was satisfactory, had fun with family and only sometime with my father. I received altruism from everybody due to my age and having a caring family. I was playing some of my friends and siblings when my mother walked to me and told my family that we were going to move to the United States to live with my father in five days. Immediately my mother’s sisters ran up to her and started crying and hugging her. They were ambivalent about what they were thinking to say. After everyone hugged and was finished crying, my mom and I started to pack. We finished packing after two days, my mother decided to use the rest of the time to reconcile with everyone and say goodbye to everyone we knew. The difficulty of saying goodbye to everyone for basically forever or next time was almost impossible for my mother. I was too young to understand what was happening. I understood that we were leaving to go and live with my dad. To perpetuate the time we only said goodbyes and stayed up until eleven pm to use up all of our time. The day came in a flash, most of my family went to the airport to wave us goodbye. My mom broke down and cried and told everyone goodbye for the last

My mother has always been a sweet and loving girl. Her parents married young, and loved her with every ounce of themselves. However, they soon separated when she was only one year old, leaving her to live with her mother. She created many beautiful memories with her mom, who smothered her in love and affection. Even though her world was content, her mother struggled financially and emotionally. They moved frequently, and my mom attended nine different schools before third grade. Eventually, my grandmother became unable to take care of my mom anymore, so she made a deal for my mom to live with her dad for one year. However, when the time came, my grandfather refused to let my mom go, because he knew that she would live a life on constant change and instability. He knew that she would be happier and safer living with him. Indeed, when my mom started the third grade, she was far behind, and by the end of the school year was one of

Mothers know and see everything; however, I never wanted to believe it was true. When I was short on money, needed a hot home-cooked meal or a shoulder to cry on, I would call my mother. I never took or valued my mother’s advice, but I always tried to learn from her mistakes. I failed to grow to my full potential when I had my mother to rely on. Few events in my 25 years of life demanded urgent self evaluation, maturity and reliance until the sudden passing of my beloved mother.

Our yelling matches grew to be more frequent, and soon her “boyfriend” was arguing with me. The stress of the situation weighed down on my shoulders. I went from telling my mom everything to barely seeing her; she would come home late at night when I was already sleeping. Deep down inside, I felt like I was losing my mom, and I still do. However, one windy spring night, everything would change.

The last few years have been going by really slow. I was beginning to lose track of time. When my dad left my mom, when I dropped out of high school, when Ron and I broke up was all becoming a blur of my past. I didn’t know what to do next. All I knew was that we were broke and my mother’s criminal record for stealing clothes and food was stopping her from getting a job anywhere in New Jersey. Before we lost our cheap and broken down apartment in East Orange, we needed to get some fast cash. I decided to drop-out of high school. My mother understood why I was doing this and trusted that I won’t let her down like how my father did to her, my sister, Clary, and me.