When I was born on July 5th, 1996 I was immediately adopted by a loving, single, gay dad. I never knew my mother, only her name, Rosa I think it was. But as soon as I was born, she vanished. So I went on to school in public school, I had a lot of nice friends, I participated in activities, I looked, spoke, and acted like every other kid my age, but there was always something missing.
Every week in my fifth grade class my teacher would sit us all down and we would have to talk about our weekends; circle time she would call it. Many kids in my class would talk about how they had a wonderful weekend with their dad AND mom ore girls would talk about how their moms took them shopping while their dads worked. But for me, every week, I would only have one parent to talk about. My friends would always question me about my mom, and I never had any answers. For me, I only had one dad and he wasn't like other parents. I was confused, why didn't I have a mom? Why did my dad like other men? My dad tried to explain it to me once, but I never truly understood.
So instead of circle time I took to reading books so I wouldn't have to participate. Books became an escape for someone like me, I would read for hours on end and become immersed in the authors' world. My dad used to tell me that when I'm reading it's like my body is physical with him but mind is completely occupied. Reading and writing became my passion because I came from a world where my story wasn't accepted among my peers so I decided to read others stories and write my own. I love my dad and I accept him for who he is, no matter what. He saved me from a life of poverty and pain and that's a story worth telling. That's why my dream is to become a literary agent and help promote an authors work and help them share it with the world. Everybody has a story to tell, but not everybody's heard.
When I was born on July 5th, 1996 I was immediately adopted by a loving, single, gay dad. I never knew my mother, only her name, Rosa I think it was. But as soon as I was born, she vanished. So I went on to schoolstudy in a public school, where I had a lot of nice friends, participated in activities, looked , spoke, and acted like every other kid my age, but there was always something missing.
Every week in my fifth grade class my teacher would sit us all down and we would have to talk about our weekends; circle time she would call it. Many kids in my class would talk about how they had a wonderful weekend with their dad AND mom oreor girls would talk about how their moms took them shopping while their dads worked. But for me, every week, I would only have one parent to talk about. My friends would always question me about my mom, and I never had any answers. For me, I only had one dad and he wasn't like other parents. I was confused, why didn't I have a mom? Why did my dad like other men? My dad tried to explain it to me once, but I never truly understood.
So instead of circle time I took to reading books so I wouldn't have to participate. Books became an escape for someone like me, I would read for hours on end and become immersed in the authors' world. My dad used to tell me that when I'm reading it's like my body is physical with him but mind is completely occupied. Reading and writing became my passion because I came from a world where my story wasn't accepted among my peers so I decided to read others stories and write my own. I love my dad and I accept him for who he is, no matter what. He saved me from a life of poverty and pain and that's a story worth telling. That's why my dream is to become a literary agent and help promote an authors work and help them share it with the world. Everybody has a story to tell, but not everybody's heard.
It's a good story and i really like it. The sentence which I highlighted in green color is confusing and awkward.
Good Luck :D
I never knew my mother, only her name, Rosa I think it was. But as soon as I was born, she vanished
I never knew my mother, but knew that she vanished as I was born.Every week in my fifth grade class my teacher would sit us all down and we would have to talk about our weekends
In the fifth grade, almost every week, my class teacher used to get us talk about how we spent the weekend.My dad used to tell me that when I'm reading it's like my body is physical with him but mind is completely occupied.
I feel this line needs a bit improvement.... I mean the latter section.
Overall, a very nice story and you have presented it so well.
Good luck with your application!
