Undergraduate / Child Abuse: How "Wolf Children" Changed my Worldview (Commonapp) [4]

Let me know if it's too personal for a college essay. Please give feedback.

This is a story about how one film made me come to a realization that changed the course of my
life for the better.
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powerful storytelling

Wolf Children's exposition played out like the pastel love story that my mother used to tell on the days she wore her rose-colored glasses. Both my mother's story and Hana's were interrupted by a tragic event: They were separated from their lovers and were left with the responsibility of raising children on their own. I had thought that my parents' divorce was inconsequential; it simply left me without a father figure, whom I had already had a number of negative experiences with. But there was no mistaking the eerie lack of nostalgia I felt when watching how beautifully Hana treated her children following the death of her significant other. I could never have imagined how a single movie could so drastically change my worldview.

On the day I first watched this movie, I felt a deep and inexplicable sense of guilt that wouldn't go away. I rationalized it as the result of the incredible stresses I thought I placed on my mother. I thought that perhaps I had done something to cause my mother to have an even tougher time raising me. For some reason, upon revisiting the film for the fourth time, I learned of the true cause of my distress. As I came to this realization, it felt like I just found out about a long lost twin with whom I was separated from at birth. Wolf Children acted as a set of records of the life I never had. The life I could have led without the souring of my experiences following my parents' divorce. Hana's relationship with her children was the opposite of the one I had with my mother. Her encouragement that allowed her children become whoever they wanted was my overwhelming pressure to take up a career that would make me as much money as possible. Hana's willingness to let her children become adults was my mother's inability to let me do anything without permission. Hana's loving protection from harm was my mother's looming acme anvil.

From that point onward, the blindfold had come off and the scars reared their ugly heads. Life began to discolor and soon, my ambitions infected my thoughts like a thousand irritating fleas leeching off my skin. I had been going through the motions of life without stopping to think for myself, and now that I knew the truth, it was all the more difficult to keep afloat. So I left. I left the top science school in the country for an average one. I could no longer compete in a dog-eat-dog school where test scores mattered above all else. I may have had less of a challenge at the new school but I finally had time to pursue what truly mattered to me: Friendship and art. Leaving that school went against everything I was taught, but doing so has kept me alive.

Since then, my awareness of my unusual childhood has informed all of my decisions. I took my revelation as a sign that I need to work harder if I want a bright future. I will not fall prey to self-pity. Rather, I will be strong and determined to find myself despite my beginnings--just as Hana's children were.

Wolf Children gave the chance to move on from what would have otherwise kept holding me back. Without this movie I would have never had the courage to follow my dreams and become independent. My experience demonstrates that storytelling can be so powerful, often in the ways we least expect. I hope to impact others' lives in a similar way with my own stories.

Undergraduate / Commonapp Essay: Gaining control of my life [3]

Prompt* (See end of essay for notes): Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story. (There is an option on the commonapp to provide a prompt of your own, so if this essay doesn't really fit this prompt I can just make my own prompt that fits it better)

a story and issue essential to my identity

I returned home to the familiar atmosphere of anger in the air. As I lay in my bed, waiting for the night consume the room, I could sense the vitriol seeping through my bedroom door. Beyond that boundary, a battle between ferocious beasts may as well have been taking place. My parents' words were nearly tangible--their presence as vivid and absolute as the darkness. The house shook from the weight of their fury. Each day, I slipped into dream, anxious for the light of sunrise.

My father drove out of the driveway, his left hand waving goodbye to his family standing in the doorway. In his absence, he became public enemy number one. I, his only successor, was forced to bear the weight of the conflict he left behind. For a time, I was my mother's doll. At first, I was happy to comply. Anything to please her. She would buy clothes for me and dress me up. She always wanted me to be a doctor. She was protective of my hair and meticulously styled it each morning. She told me her worries and fears. Everyone considered me to be so mature for my age, and I hated it. I felt fake--less of a doll and more of a marionette--but I couldn't tell anyone that.

I started to recognize my mental scars. Like looking at an open sore, I couldn't help but wince and look away from them. They were left unacknowledged. Untreated. Without medication they festered. Soon enough the pain was unbearable and I began to act out. I was met with harsh retaliation that worsened the more I fought back.

A push. A scream. A bark. Sounds swirling in my head as the adrenaline in my blood took over my limbs. My feet scrambled across the floor. My arms flailed and darted toward my clothes, my money, my shoes. Within minutes I flew out of the house into the blinding summer sun. Behind me, an unforgiving and impending doom kept sealed by a fortified door. Before me, an expanse of silent asphalt and adobe. I sat between those two worlds, on the lonely porch, fearful for my life.

"I'll only be a few minutes," I told myself. I lugged my heavy legs past the garage door and took the first steps out of our cul de sac with nearly as much trepidation as I had experienced earlier. But I couldn't go back. Not immediately, anyway. My heart still ached with the sting of betrayal. It was not the first time I had experienced this feeling, but this time, hopelessness overwhelmed my senses.

"Just give up. Why defend yourself anymore? You're just making it worse."
The thought of going back repulsed me. I wanted time to stop. What was there to look forward to? I looked to the sky, the trees, the ground for an answer. I reminisced about how much I enjoyed taking in scenery. The gentle breeze and sway of the trees calmed my nerves as cars whizzed by. What kinds of lives were the drivers leading? I thought about my future--the way I wanted it. It was then that I decided that it was my responsibility to determine where I was headed.

I followed the weathered sidewalk back to the cul de sack. Back to the entrance to my bright yellow prison. In the quiet of my room, I embraced my dog and quickly returned to life as usual. I could still remember the pain I had felt that day, yet my dreams for the future carried me forward.

*My intention with this essay was to demonstrate my ability to encourage the viewer to empathise with a story by providing vivid descriptions of an experience I had. I tried to make this more focused and personal, as opposed to my last essay which was messy and closed off. My primary concern is that I might scare the admissions officers off with this story. I don't want them to the idea that I will be a problem in college but I felt that this issue was essential to my identity. I'd be okay with writing about a different topic, however, so if it is the case that this sounds more like a sob story/too personal for an admissions essay, please let me know. Do you believe that this story says a lot about my character?