My Experience In My Life

I first became aware of myself as a unique human being about a month ago because of things occuring in my life. I had a lot of new things going on in my mind last year for the first time. I didn’t know why it was this was happening to me, I thought there was something wrong with me. This is how I became aware of me being different from everyone else. *Personal*

When my brother was 7 years old he was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. This was a scary time in my life, not just because my little brother had acquired an incurable disease but because he was on the verge of death when the doctors finally prescribed him. When my brother was first brought to the hospital I feared for the worst. I remember being yanked out of soccer practice and rushed to the hospital as my sister cried at the wheel of our car. The only thing we knew for sure was that my brother was so sickly and so close to death that if he had come in to the hospital a moment later all our lives might have taken a turn for the worst. When we were finally educated on the circumstances we would have to endure in the coming years, my family and I quickly rose to the occasion and set out to learn how to conquer the foreign invader. My mother and I spent countless hours in the emergency room, working with specialists and trying to master the caretaking of a diabetic. Because my dad was busy at work and my sister busy at college, my mom had a lot on her plate and I was more than willing to do whatever I could to help her out. This involved a lot of babysitting while my mother researched and more cooking than I had ever experienced in my life. Thankfully some good did come from this experience. My brother and I spent so much time together that year that we became inseparable, only able to spend short amounts of time away from each other. And to top it off, possibly the

“Poke the porcupine! Poke, poke poke,” yelled my brother, Matt, as he jabbed his fingers into my ribcage. This game made the three hour car ride to Maine feel like eternity as the middle seat had my name engraved upon it (one of the perks of being the youngest child). My sister stared at the alluring landscape as we drove down the street, welcoming my family to Nana’s house. Pulling into the driveway, I am greeted by Nana, Papa, and Uncle Dave. My siblings and I immediately explored the backyard like adventurers in a new habitat. I traveled down a scenic path, welcoming me to the salty Atlantic. I paddled as hard as I can to keep up with my Nana and Papa kayaking. My whole family then took a hike, screaming every time we saw an apple tree. As we returned to the house, I washed my grass stained shirt and checked my body for ticks as I smelt savory lobster cooking. Crunching on corn and devouring my butter soaked lobster, I looked up at the table and saw a happy family: laughing about our hiking adventures and enjoying time together. As a first grader, I was thrilled to practice my reading skills to my Nana as she corrected my mispronunciations. Maine was a sweet escape, and I never wanted to leave. The only worries in my mind were the grass stains on my shirt, and removing the tick cemented in my leg.

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.

When I was younger, I always found myself with a pencil and paper in my hand. I would leave a multitude of marks on the paper in some form or fashion, whether it be scribbles, repetitive words and sentences, my name, or the names of family members. Growing older, I would find myself writing more than enough when it came to essays. I could never bring myself to leave out any details and I rarely used simple sentences. Originally, I thought it was because I wanted the validation of my parents and teachers, but it was something else I had yet to realize. I liked writing and it hit me one day when I was in my room, listening to music.

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.

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.

Until I was eight-years-old, I had a relatively typical family: a mom, dad, two younger sisters, one younger brother, and two dogs. I was goal-oriented and determined even as a young girl; I had my life figured out for the next ten years. I had a strong sense of who I was, but one June day, I began the arduous process of redefining my plans and sense of self.

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.

On the night of April 7, 1997, my seven-year-old body flew from the backseat of a Nissan Sentra and crashed through the front passenger window onto the roadway of Old Town, Staten Island. I woke up on a hospital stretcher in pain and perplexed. My eyes were filled with shattered glass. I had no mobility in either of my arms; my right arm was wrapped in gauze and plaster; and my left arm had an IV in it. Two days later I was informed of the full extent of my injuries. I shouted at my nurse, “But how will I eat, write, shower, and how will I use the bathroom? What about my hair? How will I put on my clothes?

The wind serrated past my body. I hesitated, reminiscing all the memories we treasured years ago. Sitting down on a nearby bench, looking at the emptied bus stop. I ran my fingers through the leathery pages of my small book that my father had given me. How long it has been? Five… six years? The clouds suddenly swirled and closed the sky, the thunder roared. Girls of all ages and appearances rushed through the streets as they had just finished school. I smiled mirthlessly.

Until I was about nine years old, I never felt uncomfortable about myself. Sure I had funny glasses, large frizzy hair, and a smile which stretched just a tad too wide, but it was just who I was. Fourth grade seemed to be the pivotal moment where the issues started which would later go on to shape the rest of my life. It started off innocently enough. Who do you like, do you want to go shopping, can I paint your nails, etc. I would respond simply. I don’t like anyone, I don’t want to go shopping, no I don’t want you to paint my nails. I had no idea then, but these were not the answers people expected me to give. They wanted to know which boy I liked, when we were going to go shopping, and how I wanted my nails painted. Shortly I found myself spending most of my time alone. I didn’t understand it. What was wrong with me? Why did I not like doing the things other girls liked doing? I feared the answers that I might give, so those questions went largely unanswered.

My college routine goes like this: Wake up, study, go to the gym, shower, go to classes, go to the library, practice the violin, go to meetings and activities, studying, and then back to my dorm for a restful sleep. I like to say that I can achieve my goals as a dual-degree student pursuing Music and Pharmaceutical Studies towards a PharmD. because I love the consistency in my routine. As a dual-degree student, I have 8-10 courses a semester that I need to take. Being organized and managing my time wisely motivates and allows me to do everything that the University of Connecticut offers for me.

“Experience is how life catches up with us and teaches us to love and forgive each other”, Judy Collins. I used to look at my life as a series of misfortunate events. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized my life, my experiences, made me who I am. This realization changed who I was and who I wanted to be. In The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch wrote, “It’s not about the cards you’re dealt, but how you play the hand.” I was so focused on the cards in my hand, that I couldn’t even play.

Maya Angelou once said, “What is the fear of living? It’s being preeminently of dying. It is not doing what you came here to do, out of timidity and spinelessness. The antidote is to take full responsibility of yourself - for the time you take up and the space you occupy. If you don’t know what you’re here to do, then just do some good.” Everyday I think about everything I went through while growing up and forming into the person I am today. Going through all the experiences I have gone through, I didn’t realize how much they would impact me today and serve as lessons. Today I am a freshman in college. I did not think I would make it this far. The precious gift of life is to enjoy every moment as if it is your last.