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Reflection Paper

Decent Essays

To an extent, I have lived a sheltered life. I grew up with a helicopter mother, an anxious father, and two over-protective older brothers who wanted me to live a happy, healthy, and safe life. They shielded me from everything bad: death, war, pain, destruction, and suffering. I was -- and still am -- the baby of the family; I will forever be the little baby girl who needs to be watched over and taken care of. To them, I am innocent and fragile and delicate and small.
From the moment I was born, my mother drew a circle around me with an arm’s length radius to protect me from the world. I was trapped. So, when I was five, I began to read everything I could. I remember staying up past midnight, stuffed under blankets and sheets with a flashlight clenched between my teeth and my nose buried in a book. I got lost for hours on end reading about everything: adventure and quests, love and self discovery, perseverance and hope. Books turned my circle into a sailboat set out for distant and ancient kingdoms, a spaceship soaring to infinity and beyond, and a submarine plunging to the depth of the ocean floors. I had the whole universe right in front of me, in the palm of my hand, safley inside my circle.
But young adult books did not feed my curiosity, they fueled it. I learned more than I could have ever imagined in that small circle; I knew that I wanted to to venture outside the safe parameters I had lived in for years, and when I finally did, I was ready. I knew what the world

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