Personal Narrative: My Father

Growing up I was extremely close to my father. He was always a tough guy to please, and I aspired to impress him and be the daughter he wanted me to be. Little did I know, my father would end up breaking my heart, and be responsible for tearing my family apart.

you lived a perfect live, worked hard througout school and been a faithful christian you whole life. you were respectful and grateful as a kid and never took anything for granted. you have worked your whole adult life on being the perfect father and dont think you could have done any better. you read the scripture every day and work extremely hard to provide for our family. you never yell or raise you voice and always keep your cool. you manage to bring scripture into punishing us. you struggled early on in your marraige just to put aside money to put us through college. i have done nothing to deserve it. you have been the perfect husband to mom. never fighting and always compromising to make her feel like she should feel. you are so

“So—dad.” Arlene called him dad. Stacey always would be her dad. “I know you and Arlen are itching to see each other, but if you get a chance, I was wondering if you two would discuss something. Arlen and I talked, and we have both been wondering when you’re finally going to decide to move back east. The reason I’m bringing this up is that I my fiancee Jim has been twisting my arm to get married. He even went so far as to mention to mom how nice it would be if he and I got married in Las Vegas. I tried stalling him a while ago by saying I wasn't interested in any big fanfare. He hatched another angle, because he knew Las Vegas is just a hop, skip, and a jump from where you are in California. He was figuring mom would jump at the idea to help

My step dad has always been weird about how me and my mom get along. Everytime we bond he gets so mad and it is not healthy. He is always trying to put us against each other, trying to make my mom seem like the bad person when I get in trouble or making me look bad infront of my mom. Saying things like my mom being the one who influences him on getting me in trouble or that I am being rude to him and he lies his way into trying to convince us. He invents his own lies and lives in them himself. One day my parents got into an intense argument that led my step dad to kick my mom and I out of the house. At that moment I did not have time to be a child, instead I stood by her and helped her refocus. That morning I had a tie dye shirt drying in the

"Never forget the past…because it may haunt you forever. Regret all the bad things…cherish the good things. Look ahead always…but don't let the bad things from the past get in your mind." As a young child, there were so many incidents in my life that made me become the person I am today. There were rough times as well as good times. If I were to tell you all of them, I would remember half of them. I think some of my incidents really had some impact, and some were just simple ways of life. To tell you the truth, the incident that had the most impact on me has to be when my real father left me at the age of three. I never knew my father. I mean being a baby, you really have no experience or recognition of somebody else.

a choked sob escaped my throat as i curled up on the empty bed, the ache in my chest not seeming to calm down. i felt so alone, and so wrong. he wasn't here anymore, and i wasn't able to talk to him. he was the only one who knew that i was transgender, and he seemed to be he only person who could cheer me up when i needed it.

I grew up being the first ever kid to “not have a dad.” My classmates questioned me in ignorance, wondering how I was ever created without a father of my own. This is because I was taught by those around me, at the young age of six, to always reply “I don’t have one,” when asked, “Where’s your dad?”

When I was fourteen I started making excuses to stay with my grandma as much as I could, whether it would be joining clubs, working football games, or just that I wanted to see her. I hated living with my mom and step father. He would go into a drunken rage and I was always his target for bullying so my grandma would gladly take me in. She would hold me when I wanted to break down and cry from the way he would treat me and promised that she would help me in anyway possible. Times that my step father would say something demeaning and hurtful towards me she would be right there to pick up the pieces and put him into his place. She took me in shortly after.

My dad and I were in the car going to our my first organized basketball game. My heart was pounding I was already sweating and I was the most nervous I have ever been in my whole entire life!

It was a cold December night Dad had locked me out of the house it was better than the

When I was in, I think 4th grade and I was playing around and I was called to the office and I didn’t know what for. Was it my dad or mom? Was it someone I didn’t know? Was it just my sister? I had no clue what was about to happen.

The year is 2011 and my parents are staring at me across the dinning room table. The only thing on my mind is that I am in trouble. At eleven years old I could not fathom what was about to come. The fights and withdrawn attitudes should have prepared me for what they said, but they did not. I never thought my parents would separate, and at such a young age it was hard to comprehend. I knew that my family was about to change forever. My dad treated me like a princess, while my mom pushed me in school and extracurricular activities. My parents evened each other out. When my mother and I had a problem, my dad helped us work it out. He was my rock while my mom was someone I thought I had to love. Our communication centered on things like girl scouts, soccer, or praise dance. I always felt she loved my brothers more than me. For a while that was fine, I had my dad who hung the moon and the stars for me.

I always looked forward to my mom coming home from work. She always walked into the doors with a smile on her face and greeted us with so much affection. Seeing her each day after work gave me so much joy and I looked forward to it. One particular day when I was 5 years old, my mom pulled into the driveway and I got filled with excitement that I literally thought I was going to pee myself. Except when she got out of the car she had this look on her face that I had never seen before. She looked worried, scared, and heartbroken. My excitement quickly floated away. My mom approached my dad and said we need to talk. My mom and my dad went into the bedroom to talk and when they came out of that I room I knew something was wrong. Dad came out looking so angry and sad, as if his world was just turned upside down. My mom approached me and they both took me out onto the front porch of our home. I remember thinking in my head, “what did I do this time?’ That’s when the words came out my mom’s mouth, “Clay came to my work today and he wants to see you and have a relationship with you.” I knew Clay was

The past two days there has been a lot going on, so I’m going to combine them into one entry.

The snow dyed red from blood as my dad laid unresponsive,with a laceration to the head, while I looked at him in shock because I didn’t know what had happened. A minute and a half had gone by and the scene was crowded by a dozen red jackets with reflective white crosses on their backs. About seven minutes later there was no trace that anything had ever happened. I had just witnessed a first response team take my dad down the mountain in a toboggan at the speed of a racer. I realized how if everything had not occurred the way it did I might not have my dad today. Ever since that moment I realized how much I want to help people in distress and possibly save lives. Now I find myself only a few months away from having a cross of my own on my