My Experience In My Life

She reached over to the table beside her and grabbed the glass of ice water, sipping it before placing back down where it belonged and diving back into her computer again “Starting when I was around 3, I always had a constant obsession with one boy band or another. I jumped from one teen heartthrob to another over the years. Most of my conversations with my mother from about age 5 'til my early teens revolved around “my future husbands” as I called them.” Her fingers moved nimbly as the story began to unfold, “I would describe the life I plan to lead with them or the children I wanted to have. Within these conversations with my mom or grandma, they always managed to throw in things like ‘What if you bring home a girl instead’ or one would say ‘Well I can’t wait to meet this husband’ and the other would shout ‘or wife’ from the other room. At the time it made me mad and I would always respond with things like ‘MOMMMM I LIKE BOYS STOPPPPPP’ and storm out of the room. When I look back, I often wonder if they were trying to brainwash me or if they just saw something I didn’t, but it was a sweet way of reassuring me no matter who I love they would always accept me. At the time I never thought anything of it, I liked boys, boys were cute and that’s what the world had taught me. Girls like boys, boys like girls, and

Catherine's older sister Karin was the same age as me, 12 years old. Her parents had the latest 'mod cons' shipped out from the USA and her bedroom was decked out with hot pink shag pile carpet and a white fourposter bed with gold trimming and pale pink floral fabric, which flowed delicately in all the right places. My bedroom had the bare necessities, which was all I really needed or wanted. My bedroom was very basic with no signs of femininity and I was okay with that. I also didn't like wearing frills or lace. I thought it was rather 'lame'. What I initially found very fascinating about Karin was thatshe had 'boobs', which she was particularly proud of, and I was very flat chested. I'd never met anyone my age with 'boobs' before. She convinced me that that's what boys like, and also emphasized the greatimportance of being liked by boys. She persuaded me to wear one of her old training bras and stuff it with tissues. I was so in 'awe' of her that I complied. There were only a couple of older boys on the mission station and they were actually teenagers, so their approval of our maturing young bodies, well... hers in particular, was very important. Before Karin had arrived the thought of attracting the attention of a boy didn't even register in my mind seeing as I was just one of them, mostly. I grew up with two brothers and mostly all male cousins so taking part in 'boyish' activities

As I grow older and live new experiences, I realize how my childhood and God led me to the circumstance I am now, which is my last semester of nursing school. I come to appreciate my mother’s hard work to get me through school as well as through life. Growing up in a low-income family in Los Angeles, California with a dad who was a full-time alcoholic and drug addict, was not a good circumstance to grow up. My mother did not speak English or had a job and believed that a married woman is to fully depend on her husband. There were times when my 2 siblings and I had nothing to eat since my dad barely came home with money after spending it all on alcohol and drugs. Due to this living situation and the fact that I was the oldest child, I felt the strong responsibility to drop out of school once I was old enough to work. Education was not an option in my future. Since we didn’t have much money, my mom signed my siblings and me to free afterschool programs at my local Catholic church, so we could learn more about our religion and the importance of God in our lives. I remember my excitement to wake up early Sunday mornings to get ready for mass, even though it took 2 bus routes to get to church. I learned from nuns and priests the importance of caring for others as if they were my own family because everyone deserves the same type of care. Caring was something I learned through religion, and not something I was born knowing. As a way to start fresh, my dad decided to move us to

My name is Darla Days and I was 17 years old when I wore something other then my sisters clothes. All my life I recieved hand me downs from my six older sisters because my sorry parents were to lazy, to drunk, or to irresponsible to get me my own stuff.I was born In Long Island,NewYork in a small two-story semi-detatched house. There wasn't enough of anything in ym famikly,so since I was near the bottom of our family line,I recieved everything nobodhy wanted anymore. Of all of my sisters,I was always told I was the prettiest and I was the smallest,besides my baby sister Nora. I loved her and I wanted so bad,for her not to have to go through what I went through. I got beat up and abused,because everyine else was angry at the way they were

I lean against the hospital bed reflecting on my life and where it would now lead me. I have just overdosed on a painkiller and I thought my life was over- no hope, no friends, and most certainly, no support. Or at least that is what it felt like. I was at a time of my life where constant bullying was occurring and being in a small school at the time, there was no place to escape. In my mind, I thought the only way out was to vanish from this world completely and so I snooped around for a bottle of pain killers and took the whole bottle.

During my first semester as an undergraduate college student, Santiago, my best friend and boyfriend, passed away. The flight from Denton to Dallas was not quick enough. Just as he took his last breath on the emergency room, the plane landed. At that moment, I had felt as if half of myself had died along with him. Life quickly forced me to encounter a difficult trial in my life; the death of a loved one is one that few learn to overcome. Death is a reality, hardly any truly know how to manage or if it is even manageable. Four years ago, at that exact moment, I had lost hope on dreaming. I refused to continue to dream since I felt it had led to nothing the first time. My dreams of one day spending the rest of my life with Santi had died along with him. At that moment I couldn’t see any dream ever coming true. However, just as life can throw us curve balls, it can also teach us how to aim for them and send them flying away.

The morning dew was still on the ground from the steady drizzle the night before as I glanced outside to inspect the weather. I woke up as usual that morning around three o’clock threw my sweatshirt on, stuffed my bag with a dry towel and suit, grabbed some breakfast, and headed off. I didn't rush this time frantically trying to make it there on time. Instead I walked to my car step by step as my mind slowly turned to mush from the feeling of my life slipping away. I knew that as an millennial older generations saw me as an sheltered child, coddled through all my problems. If only this was true I thought, oh how life would be different. I was being crushed by an ever growing pressure to remain swimming on an national level, but still obtain and function within my two jobs. On top of all of this school was to be my primary focus, but I was unable to effectively operate in my school work because of this consuming monster. To them though it's only two jobs, it's only swimming morning and afternoon, it's only school. To them we aren't teens or young adults but children who are given everything.

As I'm writing this, we have just returned from a 5 day hospital stay. Life has become a series of doctors' appointments, tests, and hospital stays. This is life with a chronic illness. . . especially one of which not much is known. But life wasn't always this way.

I was born in Guatemala City, Guatemala. I like to think that I’ve been blessed to experience so many different cultures, lifestyle, and diversity in Guatemala City amongst its people spending the first 6 years of my life and then moving to Belize. The change from only speaking and hearing Spanish every day to learning English after moving to Belize was a struggle. A struggle that I am so thankful I went through now because that made my transition much easier as I got to further my education to where I am now; a proud graduate and Alumni from the University of North Florida.

Although we were very happy to be reunited, it didn’t last for long. I came out as gay to my family, and none of them took it well. My parents didn’t talk to me for weeks, while my siblings treated me like a stranger. John and Joanne resented me; the same John and Joanne that I walked to school with every day and huddled next to for bedtime at night. Long years of hardship and memories suddenly hold no meaning, all because my sexuality is not perceived as normal. Coming out somehow created a barrier between my family and I, and they’ve been distant ever since. I’ve been disconnected from my siblings, and as we grew older, it became more clear that we’ve drifted apart. Joanne now lives in Delaware with her boyfriend and John is going to Lewis University. I can’t depend on my siblings anymore, and it was a hard reality check. It’s easy to just cry about how hard my life is and complain about how lonely I am, but that’s not what I

After my dad passed, my life took a turn. My family was falling apart and I was just a little child at the time. I felt as if I was drifting at sea all alone. My mom had to work twice as for our family to thrive and me and my brother, Allen, had to give up our childhood belongings to attend school. I started to see my mom less often than I used to and that made me go through a depression phase.

The airport right now is packed. The steady sounds of feet against flooring echoes in my ears. A child's scream brings me back from a daydream. For a second I forgot where I was or what I was about to do.  I honestly still can't believe this is happening. Especially to me. From the dull normalized life I live, I am about to throw in a mixture of crazy the likes I couldn't even fathom.

     It all started out when my very shy, self-conscious sister didn’t really fit in well. She was 16, chubby and had very few friends. One day Becky’s best friend Debbie introduced her to 19 year old guy name John. Becky and John hit it off very well

Want to know what I did this summer that is different than yours? Well you’re going to hear a lot about it from me in this writing. Traveling in a long hot car ride down to Panama City, Florida is one heck of a ride let me tell you. The hot air on your face as you’re just trying to relax in the back seat of a crammed SUV. The air is so hot that it’s way to hard to fall asleep in the fifteen hour long car ride to your destination. So then you're forced to actually communicate with the people in the car with you, which than you figure out isn’t so bad after all. Laughing the whole way down and jamming out made our whole trip down so much better than it originally was going to be. And than when you finally pull into the driveway of your new

The time was coming near, before I pass I must pass my medicine bag onto my great grandson. I started my journey leaving my home in the reservation where I live. I put on a big black hat with my long black coat, over my bright red satin shirt. I wore my beaded bolo tie under my collar as a formal accent. I had stuffed my boots with money that my family would need to provide for my funeral. Knowing I would not come back I waved to all my friends on the reservation as I boarded the bus to take me to my only living descendents house, which I have been longing to see, and now will get to before I die. The bus ride from South Dakota to Iowa lastest nearly two and a half days. On the bus I mostly tried to sleep or muttered songs to myself, nobody sat near me which didn’t bother me at all. When I arrived I was tired and stiff from sitting for so long, but I was determined to make it to my family’s house. After wandering around the city for a while I had stopped to rest at a large building, nothing here was familiar to me. Suddenly, a large man who had many weapons around his waist come over to talk to me. He was very nice and guided me to the nearest bus stop and told me how to get to Bellview Drive, a street i’ve have been saying over and over again in my mind. I had took the bus that the man had instructed and got off at Bell View Drive. I had been searching for their household by number but when I walked on the sidewalks it was hard to see the other side of the street. So I started walking in the middle of the street looking on both sides as I walked. As I kept walking wolf-like creatures started following me attacking at my feet but I had to find the house so I brushed it aside. Then children started to congregate behind me. I kept walking till Martin had found me and shued my parade away.