My Experience With My Own Life

My upbringing and circumstances are responsible for my personality. I was born in Allentown, Pennsylvania. Up till now I have never moved, but my brother and I grew up with two homes. My brother is only three years older than me, so we often related like peers. As a result of my parent’s divorce, I’ve grown up

For the majority of my life I have belonged in the little world, stretching from Chicago to Cleveland and South Bend to Nashville. The boundaries of my known world have always felt like a limiting factor in my life. While my friends ventured to far away lands every year, I would spend the night at my grandparents house or we would make a day-trip to a city. With spring break approaching my family and I were going to change that, we were going to South Carolina.

The house that built me was a two story, standard suburban number in a low income, minority neighborhood . It wasn’t ideal, there were a few instances of hate crimes against hispanics-it could have been me-, but I had a roof over my head and there was food on the table. 14 years of my life were spent in that house, I spent my days learning from my siblings as they went down the tumultuous road of life. Being the youngest, I followed the example established by my older siblings: stay out of trouble and focus on studying. I knew I would always have their support. They taught me that coming from a low socioeconomic background was not a limitation, but rather an advantage when it came to striving for greatness. Early on I learned that life is not a walk in a patch of roses, it’s an always changing highway with sharp turns and potholes-make the right decisions and you’ll get to your destination .

I felt lost. I had no hope, motivation, or joy. After hitting a brick wall in my path towards graduating, I felt totally incapacitated. Suddenly, through the struggle and pain shone a tiny, fluffy, and cuddly beacon of light. Her name would eventually be Boogies. She brought a purpose back into my life. Her love filled a void in my heart that I could not have previously defined. My relationship with my cat has helped me regain ambition and a true excitement for life.

My life before everything was pretty normal, before in a way I was forced to mature at a young age and face that the world does have its problems.i lived in a pretty big house, or at least it was big when I was 7. Me and my two sisters always played and had fun. I played soccer, did cub Scouts and raced soap box derby cars. One of my favorite games to play with my sisters were either rolling an egg or a soda down the driveway, we would then drink it, The soda not the egg. We went to a gifted and talented school and had a bunch of friends. My life was good. But my parents fought

As I lay in the back seat of the car, asleep I start getting really annoyed by all the restroom breaks we have to take…...Cause I just want to get there. But as my mom always says, “a good adventure takes time to start, and an even better adventure is saddening to end.” But it’s not ending cause it hasn’t even started! That’s when I realized I was daydreaming, and when my cousin Olivia, and grandma woke me up I thought it was for another restroom break, but it wasn’t. . .

I remember my parents calling me up an hour before midnight telling me that they would be coming home late from work. That was how I grew up my entire life until I entered high school. As an immigrant family, my parents had to run the extra mile to provide for our family. I was the oldest of my family. Therefore, I had to step up as the mother figure and to take care of my younger brother. Sometimes, my friends would ask me to hang out with them or to come over my house. My answer was no most of the time. I had a younger brother in the house who needed my help with his homework. He couldn’t feed himself so I had to feed him. I remember putting him to sleep one night and just asking myself why I had to do this. I wanted to hang out with my friends and act like a child that I was. I was an eleven-year-old who had to grow up because of the circumstances. And I did not like that. As time passed by, my parents were settling in to this new surrounding and they began to take some of their time off from work to spend time with me and my brother. Even then, there were times where I had to take care of my brother because he couldn’t be home alone.

During the Summer of ***** I made my way to training camp. The sweltering Summer air was unforgiving. It felt like a cloud of heat was just entrapping me wherever I went. I had to travel for what seemed like days to reach the training camp. The buses were infrequent and covered in filth. The insides of those buses were almost twenty degrees warmer than the outside. I literally fought people to be next to the windows because I was sure that if the bullets weren’t going to kill me, the heat exhaustion would. After what seems like years in that awful bus (Mule) I reached the training camp.

In life, many times we face the most difficult obstacles. Never did I imagine that I would face a time in my life as challenging as the Summer of 2009. When I was in 4th grade, I found out my family and I would be moving to Broken Arrow. At first, I was so excited to go to our “brand new” house. It was then that I realized moving to a new city meant making all new friends, and basically starting over. I didn’t know what would happen at that point, but here I am 8 years later and I couldn’t be happier with my life. Moving to Broken Arrow was frightening at first, but in the long run gave me many new and exciting opportunities such as making new friends, becoming involved in my church, and making incredible memories in my school’s marching band.

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

My entire life has been full of three of me. My brother, my sister, and myself. I say three of me because my siblings and I are the same age. We were all born on the third of June in nineteen ninety-nine. It has always been this way – the three of us. We are the musketeers, always by each other’s side. We have been through ups and downs and everything in between. For the past eighteen years, all I have known was my siblings and the comfort that they bring. Not only are they the other two-thirds to my life, but they are my best friends. Jaelyn and Dakota (my sister and brother, respectively) are my guidance, security, and sanity.

Two, very different experiences, 14 years apart, have dramatically made an effect on the choices I have made and the person I am today. At the time of each experience, I did not know the magnitude each would impact my life.

My past few years of education were, I think, the best couple of years of my school experience of my life. Teachers and friends affected how I acted, learned and studied in school.

“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 wind was slicing through my hair as my sweat was dripping off my metallic purple frames. I placed each foot on each of the pedals and took off. My whole world was filled with the rattling sounds coming from the dreaded training wheels. Everything would always come to a stop whenever I would hit each bump. “I need to get these thing off!” I thought constantly. The training wheels were such a nuisance because they gave me a wobble that kept me off balance, and they provided no extra speed. There was nothing graceful about my riding.