Describe a circumstance, obstacle or conflict in your life, and the skills and resources you used to resolve it. Did it change you? If so, how?
This is my first attempt at a college Essay and I'm honestly not feeling too good about it. But, I'm running out of idea and time and need to get this finished. I would appreciate any suggestion, critiques, comments, opinions, whatever you got, I'll take! Thank you!
When I was 13, my mother sat me down one day to have a talk. She came into my room and we both sat on my bed and, with a sullen voice, she began to speak. "I'm leaving," She had said, "You have a choice. You can come with me, or you can stay here with your father." I can't say this came as a huge surprise to me, but that didn't stop me from silently crying. She wrapped her arms around me and we sat there in my flower covered bed as tears poured out of my eyes. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, it felt like hours, but, for all I knew, it was only a few minutes. The whole time I cried, my mother softly whispered comforting words to me until, like usual, I felt stupid for crying. It was drilled into me to believe that crying showed weakness. And I was not week. So I forced down the tears and tried to face it like the strong woman I wanted to be. I told her that I would leave with her. It wasn't a very hard choice.
My father was never really a huge figure in my life. I had lived with him for 13 years and yet only spoke a few words to him everyday. He didn't know me, and I didn't know him. He was my father but he hadn't been my dad in a long time. Once I had made my decision, she proceeded to have the same conversation with my two older brothers, who's reaction was more shocked than my own had been. My brothers, feeling the same way about our father, also both agreed to go with my mom. And so, we spent a short time packing up what was most important to us and loaded it all into our varies cars. My father, like usual, was locked away in his garage. My eldest brother and I climbed into his 75 Firebird and sat in the driveway, waiting for my mother to get into her Camaro so we could leave. But she had to tell my father we were leaving first. The image of them discussing, right in front of our car, is burned into my brain. The way my father seemed to think it was a joke at first, the way my mother, aggravated, began to speak with her hands. I couldn't stop the tears from coming again. My brother noticed. He placed his hand on top of mine, the most comfort I had ever felt from a family member, before turning on his car and leaving. He didn't want me to have to see the break-up fight, I assume.
That night, we stayed at a family friends house. I constantly had people looking at me as if I was about to break. As if I was an antique vase who might bust at the slightest brush of wind. I hated it. It made me feel even more week than when I couldn't stop crying. After a few days, my mom moved us into a trailer park. She kept saying that it was only temporary, until she gets back on her feet. I couldn't complain though. I knew this was even harder on her than it was on me. At school, I kept my situation a secret. No one seemed to notice anything different and as long as nobody asked, I didn't see any reason why I should say anything about it. The more time that passed, the more I realized that my life hadn't changed much even after the divorce. My brothers and I still treated each other in the same annoying ways, my mom was still the outspoken hard-headed women she always had been and the fact that my father was no longer there, had no effect on me. It surprised me, honestly, how much I didn't miss him. I almost felt guilt for not caring if he was there or not.
It's been four years since then and I've stopped feeling that guilt. In the time that's passed, my father has not once tried to contact me. He is constantly making things difficult for my mother. He wrecked her credit and refused to pay his full child support. He even quit his job in order to escape the responsibility of supporting his own kids. Soon after the divorce, he married a lady he worked with. My mother, or anyone else in our family, had no idea that this was happening until it was done and over with. To make it worse, this lady had a son who went to my school. And while he could never be bothered to take responsibility for my brothers or I, he acted as a true father to this new son. Though I admit to being a bit envious of this, I was somehow slightly happy about it. It meant that he had moved on.
Through this experience, I learned a lot. I've learned that looks can be deceiving. Something that looks like it works perfectly, like my parents marriage, could really just be for show, like a thin layer of membrane that covers the venom that is capable of destroying lives. I've learned to be accepting. Sometimes, things just happen and there's honestly not a single thing you could do about it. The best thing you can do is just accept it and move on. Life is full of obstacles, that's what make us strong individuals. It's just proof that there's nothing you can't overcome.
