My Autobiography Of My Life

I grew up in the beautiful island of Puerto Rico, living most of my life on the country side with my Mom. My father was not in the picture, as he abandoned the house when I was very young.

I was nine years old when I moved to California from Japan, all the way across the world. Moving to California was quite possibly the weirdest experience that has happened to me as a child. Trying to move from a place that I pretty much spent my life in than literally going across the world without knowing anything about it was very foreign to me, however my parents used to live in california for about one or two decades.

I think one of the reasons that me and my mom moved around so much was because of my mom and dad's divorce when I was five. The first school I went to was Marshal Elementary in Arizona but not even a year after starting there my mom decided to move to Oregon so I finished my first grade year at Meadowlark Elementary in eugene. once I had finished my first grade year my mom decided that I should learn spanish so she sent me to a spanish immersion school called called Buena Vista. But during the summer of my second grade year my mom found us some new roommates so we moved in with them then we all ended up moving to Camp Creek. I spent my third grade year at Camp Creek. during my third grade year my mom fought my dad for custody over me. When my mom own custody over me my time with my dad was cut down to about a fourth of what it was before. I

I was born in a big city called Baltimore, MD, but raised in a small town called Saint Stephen, SC. My mother had to relocate in order to take care of my ailing great-grandfather. While working toward her

When I was about 11 years old I moved to Canton Michigan from Las Vegas Nevada. It was a dramatic change in my life. Not only is it quite a distance from Nevada. But there was also a different outcome that were made from the people to the weather and not being able to see my dad anymore.

I was born on the thirteenth of May in the year 2000 to Clair and Jay Brake. At the time, my parents still lived in Mocksville, North Carolina, so I was born in Davis Hospital. I weighed 6 pounds. When I was three, on August the twenty ninth, my little brother Jason was born. My earliest memory is of Dad holding Jason on the first night back from the hospital, and I asked why Mom hadn’t come home with us yet. Dad said she needed to heal from Jason, and I went to bed.

I was born in Montrose, Colorado. Yet, I didn't spend much of my life roaming around it's land. When I was three, my parents had an epiphany, decided to buy an RV, and take my brother and me to Mexico on exhilarating and exotic adventures.

For as long as i could remember I had lived in New York, so the first time we moved it was difficult for both my sister and me. When I was about 6 and she was 4 we moved to Dover, Delaware Air Force base. The fact that my step dad was in the Air Force made my sister and me closer. Going to a new state and not knowing anyone there my mom my sister and i never really felt at home. My step dad knew all his buddies from basic training and most of them lived on base near us so that was not a problem for him.

I was born on July 24, 2006, in Mountain Home, Arkansas. It was a hot, humid night. My parents are Stephen, and Shelly Walton. I don’t remember much from my childhood. I was told, I started crawling when I was six months old. I started talking at eleven months old. I started walking at a year, and a half. I have a sister, her name is Nichole.

I moved from Nebraska to California in 5/13/17. With my mom, dad, brothers and sister. First, my family and I didn't want to stay in Nebraska because there wasn't any fun place to go to, and didn't have any relatives. Also in Nebraska, the weather makes me sick, but now the hot weather in El Cajon helps me feel healthier. So my parents decided to come to San Diego, California. Then we started moving furnitures in the u-haul trucks and planned things out. For a while

Moving from one place to another was very hard. When I was ten years old, I was living with my mom in a small town in southeastern Idaho. I had, at this time, lived here for about four years. I had come to love this

How does a person begin to write a narrative of their own life, relating events and ideas back to their own culture? Well, first, I’d like to give some baseline information about myself. I am a white, middle-class, educated, mid-western, Christian female athlete. I come from a traditional family with a mother, father, one brother, and two sisters. Taking those characteristics into account, I would say that I am a privileged member of society, and being privileged has been part of my culture. In addition, the largest influences on my life and worldview were my family, school, church, and the area I grew up.

My father was a surveyor for the US Army Corp of Engineers, so we traveled quite a bit before we moved to Arizona when I was ten. I remained in Arizona through college, where I pursued my degree in engineering. While I was in my third year I realized I did not want to be an engineer, but I did want to finish and earn my degree. After college I decided I wanted to pursue a career in law enforcement, so I moved to California and became an Orange County Deputy Sheriff. I did this for almost 15 years and this is also where I met my wife, Diane, of over 23 years. Diane also moved to California, from Minnesota, for her job as a flight attendant. At the time she worked for Northwest Airlines, but that later merged with Delta Airlines. After being married for a few years we had our first of two children. Our son who is about to start his third year in college and our daughter who is about to start her first.

I long to be free. To be free from the metal chains that hold me down. To be free from the whispering as I descend into my empty slumber. My heart couldn’t handle the pain of the immortal whispers and figures that popped up here and there trying to help or drag me with them.

I remember myself sitting near a little block with letters and my mother teaching me the name of each of them. She starts to sing me a song to help me to memorize the alphabet. It is so funny singing the ABC song. At that instant, the door opens, and my father enters the room. That is the first thing carved in my memory, and each time when I think about it, I conclude that we are the best family in the world.