My scores arn't where they need to be so i need a good essay.
I was never taught how to curl my hair; I never learned how to apply mascara, and I have never had a "girl's day." Maybe it wasn't my style, or maybe it was because I did not have a mom to teach me. My mom left when I was eleven, and, though she and my father did not have a happy marriage, she blamed me and my five siblings. I stopped calling her mom that day; she has been Jessica since then. By age fifteen, I stopped seeing her. By age sixteen, I stopped talking to her at all.
During my early years, my dad was not a huge part of my life due to his involvement in the military. He was a part of the Special Forces and had to go away for drills and regular deployments to various different countries. One year, he got deployed to Korea for a year, and I could have not been happier.
I looked up to my mom and thought she was perfect. Until the day...I was in my room playing with my youngest sister when my mom walked in. She said she was leaving and walked out. For weeks, she packed her things right in front of us, piling them all in the living room. My dad noticed how much seeing this affected us, so he took us to a flea market. The place was filthy and even had dead rats, but it served as a core memory that included laughter and eased us away from the trouble at home.
At age eleven, it was hard for me to comprehend why a mother would desert her children. I felt shame, anger, frustration, and even guilt. Was I not a good enough daughter? Could I have done something to make her stay?
Since she left so early, I did not have a great childhood. Even before her departure, my mother was abusive; she would yell at us and beat us for minor inconveniences. With my dad gone, she had no one to stop her. When she left, my dad had to leave the military to take care of us children. For months I cried daily until my head hurt. My dad tried to console me; but it never worked. I never really knew how much my father did for me until later in life, and I am grateful to have had him by my side.
I would have never thought that this would happen to me, but, in some ways, I'm glad it did. After talking with Jessica on and off, I realized I had done nothing wrong. Through the tears, yelling, and frustration, I realized I had begun to rely on myself. Jessica's abandonment made me see life in a new light and forced me to be independent. My independence allowed me to strive. I was taught how to rely on no one. I learned how to carry myself through hardships. I've learned how to cope and let go. I've kept these traits, up to right now. I know how to make decisions and plan for the future.
I now have a stepmom; she is the mother figure I never had. Even though I will never have the traditional mother-daughter experience, I have learned to look at the bright side of life and understand that not everything in life is perfect. Actually, nothing is.
I was never taught how to curl my hair; I never learned how to apply mascara, and I have never had a "girl's day." Maybe it wasn't my style, or maybe it was because I did not have a mom to teach me. My mom left when I was eleven, and, though she and my father did not have a happy marriage, she blamed me and my five siblings. I stopped calling her mom that day; she has been Jessica since then. By age fifteen, I stopped seeing her. By age sixteen, I stopped talking to her at all.
During my early years, my dad was not a huge part of my life due to his involvement in the military. He was a part of the Special Forces and had to go away for drills and regular deployments to various different countries. One year, he got deployed to Korea for a year, and I could have not been happier.
I looked up to my mom and thought she was perfect. Until the day...I was in my room playing with my youngest sister when my mom walked in. She said she was leaving and walked out. For weeks, she packed her things right in front of us, piling them all in the living room. My dad noticed how much seeing this affected us, so he took us to a flea market. The place was filthy and even had dead rats, but it served as a core memory that included laughter and eased us away from the trouble at home.
At age eleven, it was hard for me to comprehend why a mother would desert her children. I felt shame, anger, frustration, and even guilt. Was I not a good enough daughter? Could I have done something to make her stay?
Since she left so early, I did not have a great childhood. Even before her departure, my mother was abusive; she would yell at us and beat us for minor inconveniences. With my dad gone, she had no one to stop her. When she left, my dad had to leave the military to take care of us children. For months I cried daily until my head hurt. My dad tried to console me; but it never worked. I never really knew how much my father did for me until later in life, and I am grateful to have had him by my side.
I would have never thought that this would happen to me, but, in some ways, I'm glad it did. After talking with Jessica on and off, I realized I had done nothing wrong. Through the tears, yelling, and frustration, I realized I had begun to rely on myself. Jessica's abandonment made me see life in a new light and forced me to be independent. My independence allowed me to strive. I was taught how to rely on no one. I learned how to carry myself through hardships. I've learned how to cope and let go. I've kept these traits, up to right now. I know how to make decisions and plan for the future.
I now have a stepmom; she is the mother figure I never had. Even though I will never have the traditional mother-daughter experience, I have learned to look at the bright side of life and understand that not everything in life is perfect. Actually, nothing is.
