My Past Doesn 't Determine My Upcoming Essay

At twenty-two years old my younger-self had previously pictured me in an entirely different place. I never imagined living in Texas, I’m originally from Chicago, and that’s where I thought I would reside. I thought I’d be graduated from college already, but fate had a different plan. And never in a million years did I think I would become a drug addict; but I am, and you know what? It’s been the best thing that has ever happened to me, it’s something I’m truly thankful for now. See, all the things listed above may seem like negative things if you look at them from an outside perspective; however to me, they’ve changed me in ways I never thought possible just six months ago. Multiple circumstances have led me to this point, but a few stick

I remember the first day I walked into my kindergarten class, I clenched my mother’s hand with all my might to prevent her from letting go. The kids around me, whom I supposed were my classmates, had long let go of their mother’s had and were playing together, and even as a five year old, at that point I felt like an outsider. I pleaded my mom to not leave but my attempts failed as I found myself alone yet surrounded by complete strangers. As I stood in the center of the room while pushing back my tears and eyeing my mother make her way out the door, I heard the teacher call my name. I timidly walked towards the spot on the yellow carpet she was signaling at for me to sit on. I heard Mrs. Ross’s soothing voice but no matter how much I concentrated

It did not take long before I realized how lucky I was for the situation that I had grown up in, to see how I could use it to shape my future into one that went against every negative thought people had, or every negative comment people made towards my future. The past was the key to my future. I spent years in foster care, and years being treated like just another case by social workers, never feeling like they really cared or understood me. That is what needed to be changed, and that is what I was going to do, become a social worker, and revolutionize the way foster kids, abused, or neglected children were treated. No kid should feel like they are just another case to be handled, they are brilliant individuals who are waiting for someone to show them how to not only escape the past, but how to achieve their own dreams. I promised myself that I would never give up on that dream of helping those children in need. It was in the past that I found my courage to return to school, to prepare myself for a worth wild

Although I would like to believe I have led a fairly normal life, perfectly meeting each and every milestone or challenge without hitting any speed bumps. Deep down I know, that I there are various aspects of my life that have caused struggles in my development.

I came home one day to see both of my parents sad. As a third grader, I didn’t completely understand at the time, but my father had been laid off from the job he’d had since his teenage years. My father had started at the age of eighteen as a student worker at Southern Miss, and after years of hard work he had been promoted to the manager of shipping and receiving on campus. When the recession struck, the need to save money resulted in his position being terminated. My father was without a job. My father loved that job and when he lost it, he changed. He found a new love, alcohol. He let his love for alcohol become an addiction. He would do anything for alcohol; he even had secret stashes when my mom had removed all the prior alcohol from the house. Quickly my father became a violent drunk and began to routinely beat my mother and me. He became unstoppable; no person could get him back on track so my mother, in an attempt to keep me safe, removed him from the house. Even my mother’s best efforts weren’t always enough, as my father constantly broke into our house. One day my mother and I came home and my father was waiting in our den with a gun. We walked in, he pointed the gun at us, and then back at himself. He couldn’t decide to kill my mother, himself, or just all of us. He had more hatred in his eyes

         When my mom ran to my dad and pulled on his arm to get him away from Gavin, he pushed her against the wall and screamed what sounded to me like bad words. When I ran between them saying, "Mommy, daddy, don 't fight," dad picked me up and threw me onto Gavin, who 'd just gotten off the ground from his first strike. Dad kept yelling at us. I didn 't know why, and it scared all of us.

My oldest brother was hammering on the door, shouting to open it. While I stood there, frozen in fear that this moment in time would never end. He asked why my brother and I didn’t want to be with him, what had he done wrong, how could he make things better? Next he tried to persuade me to come live with him, that he would “change,” but I knew that would never happen with him and he would go straight to being a patriarchal dick of a father that would threaten his children with a

Someone’s life background can often be destructive, or it can empower a person to find a way out and end up helping others who have walked an analogous pathway. I came from an eminently dysfunctional family where at the age of four I was left at home alone, overnight. Scared and alone, I awoke from a bad dream, and went outside to find my parents nowhere to be seen. Having no idea where my parents were, the next door neighbor called the police. For which, I was taken by the police only to be returned to my neglectful parents the next day. At age ten my parents became verbally, mentally, and emotionally abusive, for which the school personelle and counselors all

Too often we get bogged down in our past, and in memories of events that we think define us and restrict us from moving forward. The truth is that we can decide today who we want to be. We may have some baggage, and we may have future dreams, but today is the only day where we can define who we are and what direction we want our lives to go.

For as long as I remember I my father’s parents treated my mother like trash. They always felt that my father married beneath his social class. So because we moved so close to them the disrespect they dished out to mother became a daily ritual. I now realize that the stress of this problem led to my parents yelling, fighting and violent behaviors that ruled our house. I was only five so this is the first house that I really remember from my childhood. The strongest memories I have from that time is the way my sister would grab me and run with me to the next door neighbor’s house when my parents would start their yelling and hurting each other. The neighbor man was a police office in our town and he would take us into his house, clam us down and then go over to stop my parents from beating each other up. No one ever pressed charges; my dad never left the house. My mother would laugh it off it was like they were trapped in a vicious cycle that could not be broken. Later we would go home and pretend that everything was ok even though every dish in the house was laying shatter and broken on the floor. Society told us it was ok, because this kind of behavior was going on all around us and no one said it was wrong or bad it was just the way things were. When I married the first time I found myself in the same cycle of domestic violence that I had witnessed my whole childhood. But I did not leave or ask for help because I

Every night, as I sat on the table with my younger brothers assisting them with their homework, I hear a familiar sound at the door. As she walks her heels click, and I can hear her searching her bag for her keys, the next thing I know the keys are in the lock and as it turns me and my younger brothers’ jump. We run to the door and indeed we scream in unison “Mommy’s home”, one by one she gives us a hug and a kiss. My mother asks us how our day was, and if we finished our homework, she then looks to me and said “did you cook and assist your younger ones with their homework”; I replied “yes mom”. As I warm the food, I take my mother’s purse, jacket, and shoes put them away and prepare the table for her to eat dinner. As I glance at the

There’s a lot we can learn from the stories of our past – if we tell them in such way that enables us to hear what they really have to say. This holds true with me and my life. To put it simply, the life I’ve lived up to this point has been nothing short of a beautiful (and bumpy) roller coaster ride! As I have grown up there have been many factors that have influenced me to take on or do certain things. These things, plus some of my individual choices, have contributed into what’s made me who I am today. And with that, I’m happy to say for this moment in time, I’m satisfied with the person I am and the path I’m taking.

It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular

As everyone has a story of their journey, my story begins as a child growing up in a traditional Hispanic/Latino home in a south suburb of Chicago. At a young age, I recognized that I viewed life differently in comparison to my peers, siblings and parents. My thought process was very logical, which helped me make rational decisions. It was not often that I made choices according to my emotions and feelings, but rather choices of what I thought would benefit me in the long run. However, many of my choices and protests that I did make were against the norm within my traditional Hispanic/Latino home, gender roles, and religious beliefs. As I reviewed my Life Story Board, I was able to identify different stages of my childhood/adolescence/teens were I had either a negative, or a negative/positive experience due to the challenges and consequences of my logical thought process and actions/reactions. It was a very confusing time for me to live in a culture where I was constantly being challenged for who I was, without feeling understood.

Life sometimes seems scary. The fear of failure and the fear of the unknown make a person rethink its choices and goals, this happens all the time. As time passes, be days, moths, years or only simply one experience can change our whole vision of the world, about life, about what really matters and consequently about our goals. Throughout my whole life I have questioned so many aspects of my life, of existence, and consequently about my future. I never stopped wanting to achieve something big, that could change the whole world, some amazing adventure that would be the one thing that would give birth to all the amazing things that could happen next. As time passed I realized that life itself is one big adventure, and that what I will do every day will matter for me and for the people around me. I realized that life is not some perfect movie where there are good guys, bad guys and that in the end of one amazing journey everything would be solved. It may be a childish vision of the world, but it had motivated me for years to do the thing I believed would help me achieve this, and to believe in myself. Obviously as I grew up, I saw what the world really looked like, that sacrifices have to be made, that there are things which no one can control, that if I want something I have to work really hard. In today society everything counts.