rocky123c
Jul 14, 2025
Undergraduate / "The French Toast" - common app 7- Share an essay on any topic of your choice [2]
In every bite of French toast I take, I remember it was just one of the victims in my puberty-driven journey of self "improvement". When I was younger the first meal I learned to make was French toast. I would watch my dad throw some milk, eggs, and cinnamon in a bowl, dip some bread in and make an easy, but amazing breakfast.
So then I decided to make French toast every morning as a way to begin my day before going to school. One day I decided I would make my friend some of my renowned French toast, and I remember the exact words she said. "Well it's a little dry, but really good Katie!" Simple words, but heartbreaking. From this moment on I would do everything I could to fix my favorite dish to impress my friend. An effortless routine now involved me finding the best recipes, new spices, and measuring cups. I always hated measuring when cooking, yet I found myself changing to impress someone else.
I was ten years old when my school organized an event that brought zoo animals to campus. I remember being so excited to take pictures with the animals, so I stood in line and took one with their baby kangaroo. However, my joy vanished when I got my photo back and my eyes were pulled to the fat on my stomach and my frizzy hair. It shouldn't have bothered me at that age, but it did.
Perfect French toast wasn't the only form of satisfaction I craved now. As I got older I found myself sitting in front of my mirror for hours. Picking apart every imperfection became standard. The girl I saw in the mirror wasn't me, just a collage of insecurities. I felt the need to fix everything about myself, my smile was too gummy, my skin was too pale, and my clothes were too wrinkly. Being friends with the pretty girls at school meant laughing at unfunny jokes, having empty conversations about the best workout videos, and even shaving my blonde leg hair in the winter. My friends didn't tell me directly I had to fix my slouchy posture, my teachers didn't say I had to have straight A's, but I convinced myself that it was what I needed. Instead of actually improving myself, I created a fake character and hid the unique qualities I truly held.
Once I transitioned to high school my carefully constructed persona started to break. I noticed my friends were slowly leaving, I noticed I was no longer one of the only "smart" kids in class. I noticed people either didn't care about you at all, or cared too much. I wasn't used to this, I needed people to look at me and convince me that I mattered, that I was worth something to them. Pursuing perfection made me rely on approval from others rather than remembering my own character
Using all-purpose flour is the key to making French toast extra fluffy. Mixing nutmeg, cinnamon, and vanilla is a perfect way to add some extra flavor. A sprinkle of powdered sugar, a few berries, and some maple syrup can make your French toast a visual gem. I learned these tips while trying to make a good impression, even in a simple situation like making French toast. I could take the time for these improvements, but the joy of simplicity is a treasure worth savoring. Whether in the kitchen or in life, I now choose to celebrate the beauty of imperfection in every bite of my French toast.
In every bite of French toast I take, I remember it was just one of the victims in my puberty-driven journey of self "improvement". When I was younger the first meal I learned to make was French toast. I would watch my dad throw some milk, eggs, and cinnamon in a bowl, dip some bread in and make an easy, but amazing breakfast.
So then I decided to make French toast every morning as a way to begin my day before going to school. One day I decided I would make my friend some of my renowned French toast, and I remember the exact words she said. "Well it's a little dry, but really good Katie!" Simple words, but heartbreaking. From this moment on I would do everything I could to fix my favorite dish to impress my friend. An effortless routine now involved me finding the best recipes, new spices, and measuring cups. I always hated measuring when cooking, yet I found myself changing to impress someone else.
I was ten years old when my school organized an event that brought zoo animals to campus. I remember being so excited to take pictures with the animals, so I stood in line and took one with their baby kangaroo. However, my joy vanished when I got my photo back and my eyes were pulled to the fat on my stomach and my frizzy hair. It shouldn't have bothered me at that age, but it did.
Perfect French toast wasn't the only form of satisfaction I craved now. As I got older I found myself sitting in front of my mirror for hours. Picking apart every imperfection became standard. The girl I saw in the mirror wasn't me, just a collage of insecurities. I felt the need to fix everything about myself, my smile was too gummy, my skin was too pale, and my clothes were too wrinkly. Being friends with the pretty girls at school meant laughing at unfunny jokes, having empty conversations about the best workout videos, and even shaving my blonde leg hair in the winter. My friends didn't tell me directly I had to fix my slouchy posture, my teachers didn't say I had to have straight A's, but I convinced myself that it was what I needed. Instead of actually improving myself, I created a fake character and hid the unique qualities I truly held.
Once I transitioned to high school my carefully constructed persona started to break. I noticed my friends were slowly leaving, I noticed I was no longer one of the only "smart" kids in class. I noticed people either didn't care about you at all, or cared too much. I wasn't used to this, I needed people to look at me and convince me that I mattered, that I was worth something to them. Pursuing perfection made me rely on approval from others rather than remembering my own character
Using all-purpose flour is the key to making French toast extra fluffy. Mixing nutmeg, cinnamon, and vanilla is a perfect way to add some extra flavor. A sprinkle of powdered sugar, a few berries, and some maple syrup can make your French toast a visual gem. I learned these tips while trying to make a good impression, even in a simple situation like making French toast. I could take the time for these improvements, but the joy of simplicity is a treasure worth savoring. Whether in the kitchen or in life, I now choose to celebrate the beauty of imperfection in every bite of my French toast.
