Wrecking Ball Meaning

When high school start many people knew me but they didn’t know the real me and my life. I was always seen to have the perfect life with no problems because that’s how I always acted. This was sadly just a dream because my life was nowhere near perfect. Every day I went home after school to an abusive, alcoholic dad and I had to face this for seventeen years of my life. Of course I never told anyone about this situation because I wanted to always be labeled as the girl who had the perfect life and didn’t want anyone to ever feel sorry for me. People never understood the pain and suffering I went through and I wanted people to know but how in the world do you just come out and say that.

“Oh no, it probably doesn't work anymore. That old thing probably stopped working when my buddy decided to rip out the carburetor. I mean a little bit of hard manual labor should get it to work but i'm old and feeble now.”

Subsequently, I myself am of course judged by superficial people in this society. From elementary to the present, people have categorized me as the quiet girl. Even teachers think I’m quiet. In actuality, I am only observing what surrounds me, and thinking about my current predicaments. When I was 6 and a half my mother lost custody of me, I was put into foster care for a year. I left Euclid. My hometown where all my friends lived, all my family, I left everything behind, I moved to

Since coming to America, I have moved to an ample amount of places because my father’s job concerns. I changed school frequently and in each new school I was never greeted with a warm welcome. With one glance my classmates saw I was different from them. I was often bullied and teased because of my racial difference from my classmates, from these experiences I became a quiet and docile girl. This way I thought I would not get in anyone’s way. I had closed up in the world in front of me; I never expressed my own opinions and always agreed with the majority. However secretly inside of me, I was frustrated not being able to express myself and yet I was unable to change. I craved to be what I was in the inside to be on the outside. Still by

When I was in high school, I held the upmost conviction that I, alone, was completely different from everyone else. I knew deep down that I couldn’t place

Due to my environment, as an adolescent I longed for acceptance in a society where I didn’t feel free. I used my mental capacity to place me in

I experienced society’s wrath. The society described me as unattractive, unwanted, dirty, superficial, and worthless. I started to be so bombarded by society’s mindset that it became problematic. I began drowning so deep in my misery that I was no longer able to see the brighter side of things. I started to suffer from bulimia. I would try to eat, but everything I use to enjoy made me nauseous. Although my best friend told me I was beautiful and amazing, I didn't believe her. It became extremely despicable that suicidal thoughts became second nature. I was hideous and angry. I couldn't live like this. I couldn’t bear to see myself.

I thought it was silly to feel shameful and embarrassed when I had no control over what was happening to me, but that’s how I felt. I thought that I deserved it. I thought that it was all of my fault, like maybe I was asking for it, somehow. “At the core of my soul, I hated myself more than anybody or anything. I came to believe that everything happened to me or around me was my own fault because I had let it go on for so long” (Pelzer 136).

Growing up in Michigan, my childhood was anything but serene. I faced adversity at a young age, being bullied and picked on by other kids all my life for being slightly different. I was very skinny kid with lots pimples, jet black hair, and very insecure. Everyone has insecurities that remains dormant their from childhood. My list of insecurities came directly from my childhood dealing with authority figures and people of power such as my father. I always wanted to please others before pleasing myself and gain their approval others. One thing I could not tolerate any type of constructive criticism or feedback from anyone growing up. This clearly effected me once I entered the workforce later on in life. I was described as hyper sensitive and

I’m not quite sure when it all began, I guess you could say Junior High. The worst years of your life, It’s when all your friends began to grow womanly assets, while your stuck with a nose your baby face has yet to grow into. My body and my confidence for the longest depended on boys views of me. If boys didn’t like me then why would I consider myself beautiful. My lack of self-esteem is one of my biggest insecurities, what boy wanted to be with a girl who could barely look at herself in the mirror without finding something wrong with herself. It’s still hard till this day. I’ve been thru it all, rape, self-harm, and depression, but one thing that has kept me grounded has pulled me from the edge is my faith. It’s the only

I’d ask my mother if I could stay home and not go to school because it was so bad. I’d lie and say I was sick only to get out of school. Growing up African American but not being fully accepted by own race is a sad thing. You’d think I would have been more accepted being that I’m the same as them. But because of my voice and the way I spoke I simply wasn’t accepted by them. I used to look at myself in the mirror and hate everything about myself. My weight, my voice, my everything. I hated how dorky I looked, how short I was compared to everyone else, how “fat” I was. But I remember my Grandmother told me, “You don’t ever have to hate yourself, you should do nothing but love yourself, because there’s only one you in this whole world, and that’s something no one can be. People will talk about you until the day you die, you just have to keep pushing. Give people a reason to keep talking about

My whole life I’ve felt like an outsider. When I was younger dealing with a learning disability, I have had a hard time making and keeping friends even to this day. I struggle with being a follower instead of a leader. My own adoptive father verbally abused me growing up and I also had kids in fifth-sixth grade who constantly bullied me. I still am reminded of an instance when the first day of fifth grade approached: I got on the bus and these older girls started making fun of my pants saying, “She’s wearing high-waters.” I was humiliated in front of my peers every day since than during those two years. After being bullied for so long I made a vow to myself to never forget the pain inflicted upon me on a daily basis.

Similar to a broken record, cynical thoughts kept relentlessly playing in my mind ever since a young “larva” in a hostile environment. Subconsciously, I have always viewed myself inferior in terms of everything, this has then progressed into full blown social anxiety. I had the phobia that everyone was judging me and this philosophy has translated and adapted into my personal actions. In fact, in my 8th grade yearbook I was voted most quiet/timid! Upon the entrance of high school, I was committed in eradicating this hindrance, once and for all. Also,

As a young child, I was timid towards participating in class activities, and I would not seek help if I was struggling because I was terrified of judgement from both my teacher and my peers. I was so insecure about myself, that I became obsessed with the idea that I was obligated to complete any task anyone gave me because I was a burden on them and their life. I would go out of my way to help someone on their homework to my own grade’s deficit, or I would knowingly place myself into the middle of social drama I was not involved in simply because I could not say no. This eventually resulted in me becoming both emotionally and physically exasperated. I began to isolate myself from both friends and family. This way, I could not be held accountable for

During my typical teenage years up until only just a few years ago, I engaged in the usual defense mechanisms of artificial confidence, hiding my insecurities and holding in my emotions both to protect my self-image and eliminate judgments from others. I wasn’t ready to reveal my true self on the basis that people might use that information to hurt or better yet, to destroy me.